Future Imperfect
by The Fink
Summary: Askot's court case is up and Jen must testify, but who is on trial? Can her relationship with Wes survive this challenge or will Askot have her revenge? [Book 4 in the Identiverse saga NOW COMPLETE]
1. Prologue: Strange Deja Vu

Disclaimer: Alex, Wes, Jen and Eric don't belong to me. They're borrowed without permission from BVE. No harm, no foul, no money made. Gina Thomas and all Time Force procedure information does belong to me -- you're welcome to borrow, but please ask me first.

This chapter is in tandem to the prologue of Hide and Seek -- you don't need to read that to understand this, but if you have read that then you'll recognise the basic events. Bear with me! This will be the only time the two stories cross each other.

Many, many thanks to Gamine for patiently beta'ing again (and again), and also to Irina for beta'ing despite her cold. 

Please offer feedback -- it tells me how I'm doing.

~*~

Future Imperfect -- Strange Déjà vu

Alex sipped the mug of coffee in front of him, absently wishing that he could take Gina Thomas back to the year 3000 for a day, if only to teach the Time Force coffee makers how to make a decent cup.

"Eric should have lightened up by now," Wes observed.

Alex smiled wanly. "I'd hate to think he got worse."

Wes grinned. "Oh, he does -- when he's on restricted duty. If he can't go out and hit something at least once a week he's a real bear! I mean, I thought I reacted badly to being inactive but..."

Alex chuckled outwardly, but inwardly he cringed. _They don't deserve this,_ he thought. **_He_** doesn't deserve this. Sparing him from having to make an actual reply, Jen and Eric entered the conference room. 

Covertly, Alex studied them both, seeing the differences that had arisen in just three weeks. Jen looked worn and tired -- but that was more a reflection of being hauled out of bed very early, Alex suspected. Her eyes bore out that theory. There was a spark of life to them that certainly hadn't been there three weeks earlier, when he'd visited Del Oro Bay to deal with the Alpha Project controls -- and Alex doubted it had been there since before Ransik's attack on him. Eric was a different story. 

Alex could see pronounced shadows beneath the other man's eyes that he wanted to put down to the early start, but something told him that was wishful thinking. Then there was the haunted expression in his eyes that didn't leave even as he smirked at Wes' greeting. And as if that wasn't all a clue to Eric's mental state, there was the detail that he hadn't bothered mentioning to Wes and Jen what tomorrow was. Alex mentally shook his head and cursed Biocon again.

__

At least we have a chance of preventing the worst from happening, Alex reminded himself.

"... would someone mind telling me just what the hell is going on today?" Eric finished. 

__

Show time. "That would be me," said Alex quietly.

"OK. So...?" Eric prompted.

"What do you want to hear first?" Alex asked. "Why today or why I'm here period?"

"Why today," suggested Jen. "Why is this trip so urgent?"

"Eric," Alex answered, and waited.

Sure enough, it looked as though Eric was about to choke on the cup of coffee he'd just sipped. "Excuse me?"

"You're preparing to leave, aren't you?" Alex replied neutrally, noting that neither Wes nor Jen looked entirely surprised by that revelation.

"I might be -- does that make any difference?"

"Makes a hell of a difference." Alex sat back in his seat. "I wanted to have this discussion two or three months down the line when the dust had settled after Biocon. Unfortunately," he continued, folding his arms across his chest, "two or three months down the line, you aren't here." _Which is true -- just please don't ask me any more._ He knew that would be a plea in vain.

"If he's not here," Wes put in, "where is he?"

Alex forced himself to shrug. "If I knew the answer to that question, I couldn't tell you. As it is, I don't know anyway." _Liar!_

"You expect us to believe that?" Eric asked.

Alex shrugged again. "It happens to be true." _He's not going to buy this._

"Sure it is," he drawled.

Alex's poker mask settled into position. "Fine -- you don't have to believe me, but that **is** all I'm saying on the subject."

Eric opened his mouth to say something, but Jen got in first, "OK, we've established why now, so why at all?"

__

And now comes the part I know they're going to hate. From his briefcase he produced a datapad. "The bigwigs in Time Force want some form of...contract between us in 3000 and you guys here."

"Contract?" said Wes sharply.

"You've both," and Alex indicated Wes and Eric, "got honorary ranks within Time Force..."

"We do?" said Eric, surprised. "Well I suppose that explains why Lucas told me he outranked me."

Alex smirked faintly. "Actually, he doesn't any more."

"Oh?"

Alex shook his head, not wanting to get into the back room politics of Time Force. "Anyway," Alex continued, "the bigwigs are concerned that 'inappropriate technology' is being left in the hands of 'unknowns and renegades'."

"Which one of us is the renegade and which one of us is the unknown?" Wes wondered.

"They want to take the morphers -- and that includes the Quantum Morpher -- back to 3000," Alex explained, ignoring Wes' musing.

"But they'll be so much scrap metal in 3000!" Jen objected.

Alex gave a tired grin. "Which is what I said." He sighed -- this had taken so much talking on his part. He was reasonably sure that Wes and Jen would go for it, but Eric...

"What's the plan?" Jen asked quietly.

"The plan is," Alex answered, "that the three of you retain your morphers but you remain answerable to Time Force -- or become answerable to Time Force," he added, looking at first Wes then Eric.

"Hit the bottom line, Alex," Eric muttered, glaring. "What do you mean?"

"Bottom line: Either you agree to sign up, or in Jen's case, remain signed on; or you turn your morphers over to me when I leave."

Alex tried to sit back and relax, but he couldn't help but feel he was only seconds away from another broken nose, this time at Eric's hands -- and that was if he was lucky.

"You want us to **what**?!" Eric was incredulous.

"Technically," Alex answered wryly, "they're Time Force property. I know," he added before anyone could say anything else, "that they're next to useless without the three of you holding them. Unfortunately, convincing the bigwigs of that has been well nigh impossible. This is the compromise."

"What is this going to involve?" Jen asked.

Alex pushed the datapad across the table towards her. "That's the contract. The bigwigs have agreed to the three of you being permanently stationed in time -- as they see it. You won't be salaried -- unless you happened to have cause to come forward in time, then you'd be getting the standard pay deal. You probably won't be eligible for promotion either, but as all three of you will be at the rank of Captain, there isn't a whole lot further you could climb up the rank ladder anyway."

"But what is it going to involve?" Wes pressed.

"Nothing."

Eric snorted. "Right. No such thing as a free lunch."

Alex snickered, faintly amused. "Literally, all it involves is you and Wes sign...thumb print the contract and that's it, unless Time Force require anything in this time period."

Eric rolled his eyes. "Knew it."

"We'd do that anyway," Wes reminded him.

Eric shrugged. "So?"

"Anyway. That's the offer."

Alex saw Eric cast a look at Jen. "You know this organisation. Think we can trust them to not interfere in our lives?"

Jen shrugged. "Probably -- there are rules and regs about how much interference Time Force can have with a time period. We live here -- regardless of what datapads you sign -- therefore they can't actually do anything to you. They certainly can't drag you out of time -- that's a criminal act."

Eric frowned at that, but said no more. Alex wasn't sure what to make of that.

"Well," Jen continued, "I chose to be a Time Force officer and if they're happy to say I'm still a Time Force officer then I guess that's what I am."

Wes held out his hand for the datapad. "I might not have known what I was letting myself in for last June but I chose to take on the morpher and whatever came with it. Just tell me where to sign."

Alex leaned over and indicated where Wes needed to press his thumb for it to register, before focusing his attention on Eric.

"If you don't want to, you don't have to," Alex observed. _But please say you will!_

There was a long, long moment while Eric considered his options. Then, rubbing his face with one hand, he held the other out towards Wes. "For the record, I think this is the worst decision I've ever made, but I'll do it."

"Eric, you don't have to..." began Jen.

"No, what I didn't have to do was pick up the QCB last July -- and I sure as shit didn't have to activate it." Eric sighed. "For better or worse, I chose to do all that." He imprinted his thumb on the datapad and slid it back across the table to Alex. "I'm in."

Alex felt utterly relieved by Eric's decision. Maybe this would work out all right... "Thank you." He tucked the datapad back into the briefcase. "The other thing is -- Jen, Askot's court case is up."

Jen nodded. "You said," she replied.

"You're being called as a witness. Askot's lawyer tried," and Alex snorted, "to have you named as a defence witness."

"That's absurd," said Eric.

Alex grinned. "That was what the Supreme Court told him. Unfortunately," he continued, the grin fading, "there's no way that you're going to avoid testifying -- and testifying in person."

Eric looked from Jen to Wes. "Anyone wanna fill me in here?" he appealed.

"It means I have to go back to 3000 for a few weeks," Jen answered.

"Three," Alex confirmed. "At least, to appearances here. If I could guarantee trial length, you could be gone and back in a day, but... Legal proceedings still take as long as they take, and this is far from being a straight forward case." _And that has to be the biggest understatement of my life._

Eric nodded slowly. "So Jen goes away for three weeks?"

"Jen and Wes," Alex corrected.

"For three weeks?"

"For three weeks," Alex confirmed.

Eric looked from Wes to Jen and then back to Alex. "Leaving when?"

"This afternoon." It was Jen who answered.

Eric stared. "You leave, this afternoon, for three weeks?" he whispered.

"Afraid so."

Alex saw Eric go rigid. That was when he realised that Wes and Jen hadn't mentioned this possibility to him. _Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no._

"Eric?"

Alex could see Eric retreating, rapidly. His earlier hope that this would work out evaporated faster than a glass of water in Hades.

"Eric, it's not what you're thinking."

Alex held his breath as Eric finally looked up at Wes who had so far been speaking.

"Trust me."

"OK." The word was barely above a whisper.

"The reason we didn't say anything is because we didn't want you to feel trapped."

"Trapped?" Eric echoed.

Jen nodded. "We know you're thinking of leaving," she explained. "The last thing I wanted was for you to feel obligated to stay just because this **might** happen."

__

Please believe this, Alex willed. The consequences of Eric not believing were definitely not good. If he didn't believe, the chances were good that he would be out of the door -- and out of Silverhills -- before you could say Q-Rex, and if that happened, it would be catastrophic.

Long, long moments passed before finally, Eric murmured, "Oh."

"It's OK," Wes stated, smiling.

Eric sighed. His entire body posture told Alex that the last thing Eric thought was that things were 'OK' but... "I guess you guys need to sort out the details of your trip...I'll get out of the way."

"You don't have to..." began Alex, still worried.

Eric shrugged. "If you're going away there's stuff I need to do before you leave. I'll get a start on that."

The second the conference room door swung shut behind Eric, Alex felt himself sag into his seat. Was that going to be enough? Gradually he realised that both Wes and Jen were staring at him.

"What?" he asked.

"You want to explain to us just what the hell is going on here?" Wes enquired.

"I'm not supposed to say."

"And someone promised the whole truth," Wes countered, "and I don't think we've had anything near that yet."

Alex groaned softly. "Can you wait until we're in the time ship?"

"Something tells me I'll have to."

Alex knew Wes was less than happy about it but there was no way Alex was risking saying anything until he knew for a fact that Eric couldn't overhear it. _Knowing too much of your own destiny is a very, very bad thing._

"This is to do with Eric leaving," said Jen quietly. "Isn't it?"

Alex sighed. "I **can't** say anything here. You know that."

He could only watch as Jen's face paled as she mentally connected up the pieces. "Why? How? I'm not leaving him to **that**!"

Alex shook his head. "Not here, and you don't have a choice, Jen." He sighed and glanced at Wes, who was looking more bemused by the second. "How soon can you two be ready to go?"

__

TO BE CONTINUED...


	2. Chapter 1: Back to the Future

Disclaimer: Wes, Jen, Alex, Eric and Captain (Rob) Logan don't belong to me, they've been borrowed from BVE, I make no money from this so please don't sue me. The holo-net is technically George Lucas' baby, but almost certainly not how I've set it up. Everyone and thing else belongs to me, which includes all details of Time Force procedure and set up.

I make no apologies for the gratuitous Star Wars references. When you write future-based stories, you either think Star Trek or Star Wars, and me, I prefer my universes lived in...

With thanks to Gamine for looking over this and offering me countless hours of advice on both this and Hide and Seek -- I know it's a thankless task dealing with me sometimes and it is MUCH appreciated. Also thank you to Irina for picking out nits.

Please offer feedback -- it tells me how I'm doing.

~*~

Future Imperfect -- Back to the Future

There were, Wes reflected, some merits to being the son of Alexander Collins, Biolab C.E.O. It meant that if, for example, he suddenly decided to take his fiancée on a three-week trip to Europe no-one raised an eyebrow. After all, he was the son of a millionaire. He was supposed to be a work-shy playboy.

Wes grimaced as he dropped his hastily packed duffel bag into the luggage space of the time ship. He hated that tag and he had done his best to try and shed it since joining the Silver Guardians, but in one fell swoop it had all come back simply because he needed to cover this enforced three week absence. He supposed that at the end of the day, it didn't matter what other people thought about him. The important people in his life -- Jen, Eric and his father -- knew the truth about him, and there were a couple of people who knew him well and who would realise that this wasn't what it seemed -- Gina and Ben -- but...

"Set?"

Alex's query brought Wes back to the here and now. "What? Yeah. Think so." He took his seat. "What happens now?"

"Now Alex explains what he knows," said Jen quietly.

Wes turned to look at Alex, who was punching commands into the control unit. "That's an idea."

Alex didn't look up. "OK."

Wes looked at Jen; she looked as stunned by the easy acquiescence as he felt. "So?"

Alex entered one last command and Wes felt the time ship's turbines start up. "So." He looked up. "Eric." He sighed. "Temporal finally got done with the analysis of the time stream after Biocon's little efforts."

Wes glanced at Jen. "Which means...?"

"Any major mission or major event that could have an affect on the time stream gets analysed by Temporal," Jen explained. "Particularly when it involves someone going back in time."

Wes felt the time ship lift off. "Right." He swallowed; hoping the sudden nausea was going to go away. "They found something?"

Alex nodded. "Thanks to Biocon's messing, and as things stood when I left 3000, Eric leaves...left Silverhills this week. Unfortunately, and this is where the problem is, doing that plays right into the hands of Zafar bel Abis."

"Who is...?" The nausea was getting worse.

Alex looked a little hesitant. "He's already after my hide for telling you about tomorrow..."

"Who is Zafar bel Abis?" Jen persisted.

Alex sighed. "He can only kill me once. You know he was taken prisoner while serving in Kosovo? Well the man behind that was Zafar bel Abis."

Wes wasn't sure whether the fresh burst of nausea was as a result of the time ship clearly beginning its landing sequence or the idea of the man behind Eric's time in captivity still being on the loose.

"What happens to Eric?" Jen asked quietly.

"Truthfully, we don't know," Alex answered.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Wes demanded.

"I mean, when I left 3000, Temporal couldn't get a fix on what happened to him." Wes watched Alex's shoulders slump as the time ship touched down. "All they could trace was the Quantum Morpher...and that was in Zafar bel Abis' possession."

It took Wes several, long seconds to process the implications of what Alex had just said, in which time, the time ship hatch had opened and Captain Logan had entered, most effectively stymieing the conversation.

"Major Collins," Logan greeted.

Alex shook his head. "Not at this moment I'm not."

Logan grinned -- an expression that, for some reason, actually surprised Wes. "Fair enough, Alex. Jen, good to see you again."

"Wish it was under better circumstances," Jen answered, smiling faintly.

Logan nodded. "Certainly. And you must be Wes," he finished, finally turning to Wes. "Nice to finally meet you."

"And you," Wes managed to reply.

"Rob -- think you can show Wes and Jen to their apartment?" Alex asked. "I'd do it but I have a nine o'clock meeting with Director Hawking and..."

"And you need a little sleep before trying to wrap your mind around more Temporal Mechanics?" Logan suggested.

"Sleep?" Wes echoed, bemused.

"It's two o'clock in the morning here," Logan explained.

"Oh."

"You get used to that sort of thing," Jen murmured. "It's a bit like crossing the international dateline."

"Oh."

"So, if no-one minds," Alex said, "I'm going to go and grab a few hours' sleep. I'll get Marissa to comm. you with a meeting time for tomorrow afternoon -- we'll need to go over the procedure for the trial and...I know I have a few more questions to answer."

"That," Jen agreed, "is certainly true."

Alex nodded. "Until tomorrow afternoon."

As Alex departed the time ship, Logan said, "If you can collect your bags, I'll show you to your apartment. I'd point out sights on the way past," he added to Wes, "but to be honest, there isn't really too much tourist value to be had in Central City."

Wes snickered. "Sounds just like back home."

Logan smiled. "This way."

Slinging his duffel bag over his back, Wes linked arms with Jen and they followed Logan out of the time ship. He tried not to gawk like a tourist in Time Square at his new surroundings but it was hard. Everything seemed so...white -- and clean...sterile, almost.

"What is this place?" Wes asked sotto voce.

"Time Force headquarters," Jen answered. "And no, most of it doesn't look like this," she added. "This area is the Technical and Temporal department. They need to keep it very, very clean."

"Oh. Lab work?"

"Lab work," Jen agreed. "The rest of the place looks more like the Silver Guardians' headquarters crossed with the Death Star control room."

Wes laughed. "You've been hanging out with Eric too much."

Jen grinned.

"I don't think I want to know," Logan observed. "This way."

He took a left. Wes and Jen followed and Wes found himself walking out onto a quiet but obviously central city street.

"Welcome to Central City," Logan said. "I'm afraid you'll get to see rather a lot of this area -- you've got Time Force headquarters, the Supreme Court and the Time Force academy all in the same area." Wes nodded. "And your apartment is this way," Logan added.

"Which block is it?" Jen asked. "I know the way..."

Logan held up his hand to stall her. "I know you do, but I'm currently running graveyard anyway so you're not keeping me out of bed. Besides, you're going to need me to authorise entry to the block." Logan looked a little sheepish. "Some clown in Civ-Ad took you off the authorisation list."

"The words are English but they make no sense," Wes murmured softly.

"I'll leave you to explain," said Logan. "This way."

Jen giggled. "What he means," she explained as they continued on their way, "is that he's currently rostered on the graveyard shift, so he's actually 'on shift' now." Wes nodded slowly; he'd figured that part out. "And Civ-Ad is Civilian Administration. They're the civilian branch of Time Force. They keep the records up to date."

"Ah." Wes grinned. "Or they're supposed to, huh?"

"Something like that," Jen agreed.

Wes wasn't sure what he'd been expecting from the phrase 'apartment block', but after the Time Force headquarters -- and despite what Jen had told him about that building -- the last thing he was expecting was something as 'normal' and low rise as the elegant looking building that Logan came to a halt outside of.

Logan palmed the entry port and the door slid open to reveal an open plan lobby area that reminded Wes of most hotels he'd ever stayed in, even down to the potted palm trees.

"How are we going to come and go if I don't have access?" Jen asked, as they followed Logan into the building.

"Alex will have pass cards for you tomorrow afternoon," Logan replied. "That was the best anyone could get out of Civ-Ad."

Wes didn't need to look to know Jen was rolling her eyes at that statement. "That figures," she muttered.

"You're on the second floor," Logan explained, calling the elevator, "in two-oh-four."

"Is this where you lived?" Wes asked as they entered the elevator.

Jen shook her head. "I can show you tomorrow if you like. It wasn't as nice as this."

"Oh?"

"These," said Jen as the elevator reached the second floor, "are senior officers' apartments. I only just rated one when I returned to the twenty-first century. If I'd come back at the end of that particular mission, I'd have probably faced moving apartments."

Wes nodded.

"And here we are," said Logan, coming to a halt outside the door marked 204. He palmed the entry plate. As the door slid open, Wes could see the lights coming up. "I'll leave you to get settled in and get some rest. I think Alex has left some bits and pieces of information for you, Jen -- about the trial. And I think," Logan grinned faintly, "that you might find a couple of other surprises."

"Lucas or Trip?"

Logan shook his head. "I don't know. All I know is Alex was muttering darkly when he left, and I don't think it had anything to do with his mission."

Wes found himself snickering. If it wasn't for the perpetual feeling that Alex was only ever telling that which suited him best, he had a feeling he could get to like the other man.

"If you need anything, you know the comm. number of TFHQ," Logan finished. "Otherwise, I expect I'll see you when they drag me out of bed to testify."

  
"Thanks, sir...err..." To Wes' amusement Jen blushed.

"Alex does that occasionally, too." Logan looked amused. "Sleep well."

He turned and headed back towards the elevators while Wes followed Jen into the apartment.

"Why the blush?" Wes asked as the door slid shut behind him.

"I keep forgetting that he and I are now the same rank. I don't have to call him sir any more." Jen sighed. "Well, this is the future -- what do you think?"

Wes slowly looked around the apartment. It actually looked surprisingly similar to Jen's new apartment in Silverhills. The living room had recognisable armchairs and a comfortable looking couch all grouped around a low table. On the wall behind them was a definite sign this wasn't 2002, though -- something that looked like a cross between a Star Trek view screen and...Wes wasn't entirely sure.

"Holo-net screen," Jen explained. "Sort of like TV. But less interesting -- it's kinda like watching CNN."

"No real shows?" Wes replied, a little stunned.

"Nope. If you want something like..." Jen shrugged. "I don't know. 'Will & Grace' for example, you have to pay specifically for that show."

"Weird."

Jen shrugged. "I guess. It does mean that only the truly popular stuff gets a second season."

Wes nodded. "I guess that makes sense."

"So what do you think?"

Wes glanced around the living room again. "I don't know -- I was sorta expecting something more futuristic." Jen grinned. "But I'm not complaining."

Jen smiled. "You should recognise the bedroom. Bathroom and kitchen might be...a little more of a challenge."

"Figures." Casting another glance around the living room, he realised what he hadn't seen. "Thought Captain Logan said Alex had left you some information."

"It'll either be on the kitchen counter or in the bedroom -- about the only two places Alex knows I'm guaranteed to look," Jen explained, heading in the direction of one of the two doorways that opened off the living room. "Bedroom," she said, as she walked through the door.

Wes wasn't sure if she meant Alex's information was in the bedroom or if that doorway led into the bedroom. With a shrug, he followed her and discovered that the answer to both queries was yes. Then he saw what was on the bed.

"Two Time Force uniforms?" Wes exclaimed.

Jen was scrolling through a datapad. "You're officially a Time Force officer now, remember?" She glanced up. "And right now, you're somewhere where it means something."

That was something that Wes hadn't thought of. He grimaced. "Oh good." _Thank God Eric isn't here to see this._ And that was when the implications of Alex's words in the time ship finally hit him.

"Wes?"

Wes found he was sitting on the bedroom floor, his legs having apparently given way beneath him. "Eric..." He looked up at Jen. "Alex means that bel Abis is going to kill him." Wes hoped that Jen would deny his words.

"There's a better than good chance," Jen agreed softly.

__

TO BE CONTINUED...


	3. Chapter 2: Rough Justice

Disclaimer: Alex, Wes and Jen don't belong to me, they're borrowed from BVE without permission but no harm, no foul, no money made. Director Hawking (and if you get the joke congrats -- what can I say, once a physicist, always a physicist), Marissa, Time Force procedure and the legal system/court room layout DO belong to me and while you're welcome to borrow, asking me first would be nice.

With thanks to Chris, Selma, Gamine and Irina for beta'ing and putting up with me bouncing temporal theory off them at (for them) unGodly hours of the morning!

Please offer feedback -- it tells me how I'm doing.

~*~

Future Imperfect -- Rough Justice

Alex could feel a headache building. Who was it that had thought a meeting with the new director of Time Force's Temporal department was a good idea on only three hours' sleep? "What you're saying," he said, cutting Director Hawking off in full flow, "is that you're no nearer knowing one way or the other if what I've done has made any difference."

"In a nutshell, yes," said Hawking nodding enthusiastically.

__

Would it be unprofessional if I started banging my head against my desk? "Skipping the techno-babble, why not?"

Hawking looked amused. "I'll do my best." Alex made no comment. "Essentially, the time stream is in a state of flux."

"I understood that part," Alex commented.

"Well, that flux means that we are struggling to pinpoint anything one hundred years prior to the present, never mind one thousand," Hawking replied. "We won't know if what you've done has made any difference to matters until the timeline stabilises -- or, of course, if Destiny Force starts corrective measures this far into the future."

"Forgive me for saying so, but that's hardly comforting."

"Not comforting, certainly, but also fascinating -- do you realise..." 

Alex groaned quietly as Hawking started to gush again. _Get me out of here, someone, please!_

Marissa appeared in the doorway as if to answer Alex's silent prayer. "Sorry to interrupt, sir," she began.

__

Thank you! "By all means, Marissa."

"Captains Scotts and Collins have arrived," she announced.

__

On second thoughts maybe Hawking isn't so bad... "Sorry to cut this short, Director," Alex began, "but I..."

"Oh, yes of course." Hawking smiled. "I'll keep you updated."

__

Oh good... "Thank you."

Alex watched Hawking leave; while Temporal Analysis might not be much of a topic of conversation, Hawking was not about to string him up by the short and curlies. Wes and Jen, on the other hand... He sighed as the objects of his thoughts both entered the office. Wes looked uncomfortable in the Time Force uniform, Alex noted. Both looked grim.

"Alex, what the hell is going on?" Jen asked without waiting for greetings to be exchanged.

The headache burst into unwelcome life. "Please, take a seat," he answered, "and I'll try to explain." Silently, Wes and Jen sat down. "OK. As I told you yesterday," he began, "Temporal can't get a fix on what happens to Eric in Zafar bel Abis' hands -- all they can trace is the Quantum Morpher, which falls into bel Abis' hands and which is very bad news."

"The morpher's all you care about, isn't it," Wes snapped.

Alex winced. "The morpher's just so much scrap metal without being in Eric's hands," he retorted, "unless Eric disables the voice lock -- and there are no indications that he does that at any stage. No, what bothers me is the same thing that bothers you both."

"Why?" asked Jen, flat disbelief colouring her voice.

Alex winced again. "Because, somewhere along the line, Eric Myers matters."

"In what sense?"

Alex groaned. "In every sense. Point blank: He matters." He looked at first Jen, then Wes, seeing the incredulity on their faces. "This is the situation. Somehow -- we don't know how -- Eric has become some kind of lynch pin for the time stream. Thanks to Biocon, as things stood yesterday when I left to go back in time, there is something that doesn't happen to Eric, so that when Zafar bel Abis shows up, he -- Eric -- doesn't survive. At least," Alex added, "that is what Temporal are guessing to be the case, since we can't trace Eric beyond March twenty-sixth 2002."

"As things stood yesterday?" echoed Wes.

Alex nodded. "Temporal now can't even tell that much. The time stream is in a state of flux. If I've understood Director Hawking right, at the moment, it's veering wildly between the altered version of events and the pre-Biocon time line. Until things settle down, one way or the other..." Alex sighed and spread his hands wide. "Either way, there is absolutely nothing any of us can do now. We can't," he added, "even go back to the year 2002 and force whatever it is to happen to Eric that doesn't because of Biocon's interference because we don't know what that 'something' is and have no way of now finding out."

"And you expect us to just..." Jen began.

"You don't have a choice," Alex replied, cutting her off. "You're here, he's there. I'm sorry to say, but we," and he gestured at everyone in the room, "have done all we can. This is up to Eric now."

"You really are a heartless son of a bitch," Wes observed.

"For the record," Alex retorted, rubbing his face tiredly, "I like this about as much as you do. Despite what you might think, I like Eric -- I know that he and I aren't friends, but I respect him a great deal -- I just know when there's no point in raging against fate. And don't," he added, fixing Wes with a glare, "say a word about destiny not being carved in stone. **Some** things are -- and this has all the hallmarks of being one of those things." Alex sighed. "Any more questions, or can we get onto the court case?"

Wes and Jen exchanged glances.

"I will," Alex added, "be keeping an eye on what's happening -- so the second anything is known, one way or the other, I will tell you."

"If you knew all this, why didn't you warn Eric?" Wes wanted to know.

Alex groaned again. "Because it's a very, very bad thing to know too much of your own destiny -- besides, what would you have me tell him? You die tomorrow?" Wes opened his mouth to say something else but Alex shook his head. "Don't even go there."

"What, mention your first trip to the twenty first century?" asked Jen.

Unprofessional or not, Alex did bang his head against the desk. It didn't help. "Look," he said, finally looking up again, "I'll make a deal with you both. At the end of the court case, I will tell you exactly why I did what I did then -- but not before. Right now, this court case is considerably more important."

There was a slightly stunned silence before Jen finally managed, "We'll hold you to that."

"I'd expect nothing less," Alex answered. He scrubbed a hand over his face, wishing he didn't feel so tired. "Court case now?"

Wes shrugged a little. "Sure."

Alex bit back a sarcastic retort, knowing it wouldn't help any more than banging his head against his desk had. "I know you don't want to talk about it," he said instead, "but the case starts in the morning."

"That soon?" said Jen, startled.

"That soon," Alex agreed. "It's a defence ploy -- they've managed to get the trial scheduled quickly to put you and the rest of the prosecution witnesses under pressure."

"Can they do that?" Wes asked.

"Can they? Yes. Should they? Moot point. Have they? Yes." Alex grimaced. "They're going to use every single trick in the book -- and probably make up a few new ones in the process -- to try and shift the attention away from Askot."

Alex watched as Jen shivered. Unobtrusively, Wes took her hand and squeezed. "Sounds like it's going to be a fun few weeks," Wes observed quietly.

Alex sighed. "Fun, is not the word."

"Who's the defending attorney?" Jen asked.

Alex grimaced again. "Carmen."

Alex could only watch as Jen paled -- which had been more or less his reaction when he'd heard the news.

"Carmen?" Wes echoed.

"You think I'm heartless," Alex replied, "wait until you meet Joshua Carmen, a man who is probably at the top of every Time Force Crime officer's shit list. He's made a fortune defending lowlifes -- and worse, getting those lowlifes off." Wes rolled his eyes. "In the ten years I've been a badged officer, I've never heard of him losing a case."

"There is a first time for everything," Wes retorted.

"How about prosecuting?" Jen asked quietly.

"The new DA," Alex answered.

"Who is...?" said Wes.

"Who is Pieter van Zyl," Alex explained.

"What's he like?" Jen asked.

Alex shrugged. "Not met him to speak to yet. There hasn't been time. Got to hand it to Carmen, he knows **all** the tricks." 

Wes slowly shook his head. "This stinks."

Alex nodded. "I don't disagree with you, Wes, but this is the system and there isn't a hell of a lot we -- as lowly Time Force grunts -- can do about it. Certainly not in time for tomorrow."

"Guess not." Wes subsided.

Jen sighed. "Is there anything I need to know for tomorrow?"

Alex rummaged through the detritus on his desk until he found a specific datapad. "That's the trial schedule," he explained, handing it over to Jen. "You'll be sworn in as a witness tomorrow, which will allow you to sit in on the rest of the trial, both before and after you give evidence..."

"Is that legal?" Wes queried.

Alex smiled faintly. "Once Jen's been sworn in -- which doesn't mean quite what you know it to mean -- the court authorities will have a 'read' of how Jen lies and tells the truth."

"A polygraph test, you mean?"

Alex nodded. "Something like that, yeah. Perjury isn't impossible, but it's a hell of a lot more unlikely."

"I see."

"Assuming I want to hear the mud-slinging," Jen said.

Which was a good point, Alex realised. _Knowing Carmen, there'll be plenty of that,_ he mused. "Either way," he said, "you'll still have to swear in." Jen nodded. "After that...well it'll take as long as it takes."

~*~

Wes watched as Jen paced the corridor. She was the last of the witnesses to be sworn in and as such, they'd already been sitting -- or in Jen's case pacing -- in the Supreme Court's back halls for more than an hour.

"What's taking so long?" Jen wondered.

"They had a lot of witnesses to swear in," Wes reminded her.

Most of them, Wes had noted, had been 'expert' witnesses. Experts in temporal mechanics, bio-mechanics, brain chemistry, historical experts... The vast majority of this case, he realised, was going to be fought over science rather than anything else. _Just as well this isn't a jury system,_ he decided. _Or this would be won by whichever legal team baffled the jury better._ That thought just brought to mind the fiasco that was the OJ Simpson trial. Wes snickered softly at that.

"What?" asked Jen.

Wes shook his head. "Long story."

Jen opened her mouth to say something when the court official appeared in the hallway. "Captain Scotts -- this way, please."

Jen suddenly froze, looking painfully nervous. "Wes?"

Wes offered her an encouraging smile. "It'll be OK," he assured her.

"Captain Collins, you may come through as well," the court official added.

"Do you want me to?" Wes asked softly, looking up at Jen.

"Please."

Inwardly, Wes winced to see her looking so scared. The only other time she'd looked this upset had been in the immediate aftermath of the Biocon fiasco. _Which is probably not too far off as a comparison,_ he realised, getting to his feet and following Jen into the courtroom.

Wes' first impression of the room was that it was just like the auditorium he'd had lectures in for a semester at Harvard. It was a large room with tiers of seating, arranged in a horseshoe shape. The door he and Jen had been led through was at the top of one side of the horseshoe, which was to his left. To his right was the tribunal panel -- the trio of judges who were presiding over this case. In the centre of the horseshoe was the 'dock' -- at least, that was the closest Wes could come to a term for it. It would be where Askot would stand when the actual trial began that afternoon, once the swearing in had finished -- but it looked nothing like the dock of the courtrooms he was used to. Instead, it appeared to be a spot-lit area roughly three feet square and nothing else -- although he had been told the spot light was in fact a force field. As for the witness 'box'... That was the strangest thing of the whole set-up.

It was another three-foot square spot-lit area, but where the dock was bathed in a white light, the witness 'box' was bathed in a blue light. At the 'front' -- or at least, at the edge closest to the tribunal panel -- was a four foot high panel, which Jen was being directed to stand behind and put her hands flat on. Wes guessed that was something to do with the polygraph process.

"Name?" began the tribunal chair.

"Jennifer Scotts," Jen answered.

"Rank?"

"Captain, Time Force Covert Operations."

"Thank you, Captain Scotts," said the tribunal chair. "For the purpose of this swearing in, please read what is put up on the screen before you."

Wes couldn't see the screen -- he guessed it was a part of the panel.

Jen read out, "I am a time-stationed officer, stationed in the late twentieth century." 

Wes frowned for a second -- then realised that the statement was part of the polygraph test. The first part was true; the second part was false; the two together would, presumably, enable some piece of technology to judge the veracity of Jen's words when she took the stand.

"Thank you, Captain Scotts," said the tribunal chair. "This session is now at a close. We will reconvene at thirteen thirty and this trial will commence."

Wes blinked. He'd half assumed that there would be something more to the swearing in process. He was also a little puzzled by why the tribunal chair appeared to be specifically telling Jen what time they would reconvene -- then he spotted the microphone and he realised that the announcement had been made to everyone within the Supreme Court, connected to this trial.

"C'mon Wes." Jen's voice dragged him out of his thoughts. "We need to grab some lunch." She hesitated.

"You want to sit in?" he asked, not entirely surprised.

Jen chewed her lip nervously but nodded. "I have to."

Wes nodded. "OK."

"You don't mind?"

Wes offered her a smile. "No -- whatever you want." He held out his hand. "Now how about you show me where you can get a decent lunch, huh?"

__

TO BE CONTINUED...


	4. Chapter 3: From Out Of The Frying Pan

Disclaimer: Wes, Jen, Katie and Alex don't belong to me; they're borrowed from BVE et al. No harm, no foul, no money made. Everything else does belong to me (even the loathsome Joshua Carmen), including the legal process and Time Force set up. You're welcome to borrow but please ask me first.

A legal note: I'm not a lawyer, nor have I got an extensive knowledge of due legal process, so apologies for any obvious gaffs.

First and foremost, thank you to everyone who has waited patiently for this chapter. As most people know by now, this has been a physical struggle to write. I'm not fully fit now -- although I am well on the road to recovery -- but fit enough to start doing a few more of the things I like, chief amongst them being writing. Secondly and by no means any less important, thank you to Gamine for helping me write, refine, polish and make coherent a chapter that was started over three weeks ago and for being an absolutely wonderful friend. Thirdly, thank you to Chris for putting up with me working odd bits of exposition off him.

Please offer feedback -- it tells me how I'm doing.

~*~

Future Imperfect -- From Out Of The Frying Pan...

Wes woke.

The room was dark and silent...and empty.

He groaned, falling back against the pillows for a moment. This was getting to be a nightly routine. One that had started with the trial's opening day when Carmen had started painting a picture of Merle Askot as a leading candidate for humanitarian of the century.

And the witnesses!

A steady parade of people testifying that Merle Askot was a veritable saint and a scientific klutz.

After the tenth recitation of that particular script, even Wes was beginning to doubt whether Askot had done what they all thought she'd done. 

And then had come something worse -- the current director of Time Force Temporal's deposition.

He rolled out of bed, as he recalled Hawking's deposition.

__

Wes watched as Carmen paced before the witness stand in a fashion familiar to Wes. Wonder if there's a time when lawyers **don't** do that?_ he found himself idly musing._

"So, Director Hawking," Carmen finally began. "Can you explain to me the nature of my client's secondary charge of temporal violation?"

"Certainly," Hawking answered. From somewhere behind him, Wes heard Alex groan. "Put succinctly," Hawking began.

"First time for everything," Alex muttered.

"Temporal violation is an offence where the timeline is put in serious jeopardy by the actions of individual or individuals."

"Define serious jeopardy," Carmen pursued.

"Well," Hawking answered thoughtfully, "serious jeopardy is when destiny force is called into play or is likely to be called into play."

"I see," said Carmen, pacing away.

Wes wondered where this line of questioning was going to lead.

"Hypothetically speaking," Carmen continued, "what would be the effect of -- for example -- drawing a person from an earlier time period into this one?"

"It would depend on the person," Hawking replied. "But generally speaking...may I speak generally?"

"By all means, director," Carmen answered.

Hawking nodded. "Generally speaking, extracting someone from an earlier time period is disastrous for the timeline."

"Disastrous how?" Carmen pushed.

"At the very least, something of that nature will invoke Destiny Force to rectify it. At worst, you could be looking at the complete and utter collapse of this time. That is the reason that temporal violation carries such a heavy penalty."

Wes watched Carmen nod thoughtfully.

"I see."

Again Carmen paced across the courtroom.

"My client," he finally said, "is charged with aiding Jack Scotts' efforts in pulling Captain Scotts from her time period. In your expert opinion, director, what was the effect of this action on the timeline?"

"We in the temporal department have been looking into this matter," Hawking replied.

"What?" Jen murmured softly.

"They're bound to have done, Jen," Alex answered. "It's germane to the case."

"You have?" Carmen queried, faux surprise in his voice. "And what was the conclusion drawn?"

"That the effect on the time line has proved to be minimal."

"Minimal? Define minimal."

"Certain names and places have been altered, but events have basically unfolded as they needed."

They have?_ Wes found himself wondering, surprised._

"I see. So in fact, my client has done little wrong here?"

"On the contrary, she is alleged to have committed a temporal violation."

"But it's had no effect on the time line. You've just said that it's likely that an event such as pulling someone from their time period to this one would cause major upheaval. Yet you're saying there's been no effect. How is that possible?"

There was an electric pause. The pit of Wes' stomach filled with dread. He had a nasty feeling he knew where this was leading, or at the very least, what Carmen was hoping this would lead to.

"There are two reasons...two potential reasons," Hawking finally answered.

"And what would they be?"

"Well, the lack of time line damage suggests either Destiny Force has been at work or Captain Scotts wasn't pulled from a previous time period."

Jen gasped. Wes groaned. He could see where this was going: Carmen was going to try and void the temporal violation charge by proving that Jen originated in the thirtieth century. Between that and the trail of witnesses that described her as a scientific incompetent who couldn't turn on a Bunsen burner much less perform a complicated piece of brain surgery, the judges would have no choice but to dismiss the charges.

"No further questions." Carmen's tone was smug.

And even if van Zyl cross-examines him,_ Wes realised, _the damage has already been done._ He groaned again. Things had just got a lot more complicated._

Wes shook himself out of the memory as he entered the living room. The night after that first insinuation that Jen hadn't originated in the twentieth century had been the first night he'd woken up to find her curled up on the sofa in the living room, crying.

__

"What if he's right?" Jen asked. "What if..."

"'What if' isn't the truth, Jen," he replied, drawing her into an embrace. "And you know that."

"Do I?" She pushed free of his arms. "I don't know anything about me. I can't trust my memories...hell, even Temporal don't know for sure."

Wes grimaced, trying to keep his voice calm. "Then trust me."

"What?"

"Trust me," Wes replied, pulling her back into his arms, desperately hoping she'd believe him. "I know the truth. It doesn't matter what Carmen tries to prove, I know the truth. I know who you are."

"How? How can you know that?" Jen demanded, breaking free again, to Wes' chagrin. "How can you know that when I don't?"

He shook his head, clearing the memory from his mind, as his eyes fell on his quarry, who was curled up in her usual spot on the couch.

"Jen?"

She looked up, eyes dry. For once it seemed as if she hadn't actually been crying. "Sorry -- I didn't mean to wake you." Her voice sounded distant. Strained.

"It's OK." Wes kept his voice calm as he sat down on the couch. It wouldn't help matters if he showed his own fears and hurt.

"It's not OK." Jen sighed. "None of this is 'OK'." 

Wes offered her an encouraging smile. "We'll get through this. I promise."

Wes watched as a look of both love and shame crossed her face. "I don't deserve you."

"Why? What on earth makes you think that?"

She gestured vaguely. "This. Me. I've been..." she shrugged helplessly. "Been punishing you because of my fears. Why are you still here? You'd be better off without me."

Wes snorted, wishing he could have five minutes alone with Carmen -- or better still, with Jack Scotts. "No I wouldn't."

"What?"

"Be better off without you," he replied. "I wouldn't be." Jen just stared at him, silent and incredulous. "Jen, I love you. I love **you**. Not your past, not where you come from, not what Carmen might be making up tomorrow. **You**."

"But tomorrow it's not Carmen going to be saying stuff," Jen replied softly.

"Tomorrow's your day?" Wes queried. Mutely, Jen nodded. "Then it's your chance to put the record straight."

"But what if I can't?"

"You can -- and you will. I know you will." He held his hand out to her. "Remember -- you can squeeze my hand when it starts to hurt," he added. It was the offer he'd made the morning she had decided to get the full story from Alex. She'd accepted the offer that morning but each time he'd repeated the offer since the start of the trial, she had refused it...and each refusal made him die a little bit inside.

Somewhat to his surprise -- and delight -- tonight was different. He felt her timidly take hold of his hand.

"I trust you," she murmured softly. "And I love you...I don't think I deserve you -- but I do love you...and I'm sorry."

~*~

Wes took his customary seat in the courtroom feeling almost as nervous as Jen was. She was to be the first witness for the prosecution after a week of hearing people vouch for Askot. As if that wasn't nerve-wracking enough, then there was Carmen's insinuation that the whole temporal violation charge was bogus.

"Today's the day, huh?" said a voice.

Wes looked round to see Katie sliding into the seat next to him. "Hey Katie." He noted the lack of Time Force uniform. "Off duty?"

Katie smiled faintly. "I actually quit Time Force when we got back to this time," she replied. "The only reason I was back in uniform during the Biocon mess was that Alex all but hog-tied and dragged me in."

"How come?"

"How come I quit or how come Alex dragged me back?"

It was Wes' turn to smile faintly. "Both?" he suggested.

"The quitting's easy. Momma needs me at home more than Time Force needs me. I have three kid brothers; Momma has to work." Katie shrugged. "The math on that one's easy." Wes nodded. "As for Alex..." Katie sighed. "I had information he needed. Unfortunately, he couldn't ask me for it until I knew the full story and I couldn't know the full story until I was a legitimate officer again."

"Information?"

Katie nodded towards the as yet empty witness stand. "About Jen and the Scotts family. I've known Jen just about my whole life. Alex knew I'd be able to identify Jack Scotts."

"Ah." Wes nodded, understanding coming in a rush.

Katie opened her mouth to say something else but in that instant, the tribunal judges entered the chamber.

"The court will come to order," announced the tribunal chair and instant silence fell over the court.

The trio sat down. Wes watched as Pieter van Zyl, the prosecuting attorney, got to his feet.

"I would like to call my first witness," he announced in his calm, unruffled tones. 

"Witness name?" said the tribunal chair.

"Captain Jennifer Scotts of Time Force Covert Operations."

"Witness called," acknowledged the tribunal chair.

Wes watched as Jen made her way to the witness stand. The pale, strained expression on her face told him just how nervous she was.

"Haven't seen her look that nervous since she took the exam for the Time Force academy," Katie murmured sotto voce. "And she puked her guts up twice that day!"

"Captain Scotts," van Zyl began, "you were assigned by Major Collins on a then top secret mission, one month ago. Could you please tell me what that mission was?"

Wes watched as Jen swallowed. "I was sent back in time to the twenty-first century on the trail of Biocon."

"Biocon." van Zyl started to pace. "A man of many faces. You knew him by one guise?"

"Yes I did," Jen replied.

"Which guise was that?"

"He was Jack Scotts -- my uncle and guardian."

van Zyl nodded. "Your guardian -- how old were you when you were placed in his care?"

"Six."

"Do you remember the day you were placed in his care?"

Wes frowned at the strange question.

"No I don't," Jen admitted.

van Zyl nodded as if he had been expecting that response. "As far as you were aware, your guardian died when you were...how old?"

"Eighteen -- I had just had my birthday."

Again van Zyl nodded. "For the court, could you tell us how old you are now, please?"

"Twenty six," Jen answered, sounding a little more confident. Wes got the impression that the relatively gentle questions so far had purely been designed to put Jen at ease and they had clearly done that.

"So as far as you were aware," van Zyl continued, "Jack Scotts had been dead eight years when Major Collins assigned you to the Biocon mission. Correct?"

Jen nodded. "Yes."

"What was your reaction when you caught up with Biocon and learned the truth?"

Carmen bounced to his feet. "Objection!"

A gasp rippled around the packed courtroom.

"On what grounds?" the tribunal chair asked.

"Supposition," Carmen answered.

The trio of judges exchanged glances. "Overruled," the chair announced. "A person's reaction is not supposition. Proceed."

"Captain Scotts?" van Zyl prompted.

"I was...shocked," Jen replied. "It's really not every day that you find out that not only is your uncle not actually dead but he's actually a criminal that he taught you to hate."

"I can imagine it's not," van Zyl stated. "What happened then?"

"I was angry. I realised that he'd lied to me my whole life..."

"Objection!" Carmen bounced to his feet again.

"On what grounds?" the tribunal chair enquired. To Wes' ears the words sounded just fractionally testy.

"God what an asshole that guy is," Katie mumbled, nodding towards Carmen. Wes had to agree.

"Hyperbole," Carmen replied.

There was another shared look between the tribunal judges. "Sustained. Mr van Zyl?"

van Zyl nodded. "You were angry. Why were you angry?"

Back was the nervous look on Jen's face. "I realised that if he was standing there in front of me, he had to have lied to me at least once in my life."

"How so?" van Zyl pressed.

  
"Well -- he had faked his death. And for most of my life, he had been around to make sure that I never forgot that my family died at Biocon's hands."

"When he, in fact, was Biocon," stated van Zyl. "I see. What did you plan on doing at that moment, when you realised all this?"

"I don't know," Jen admitted. "I was too angry to actually think. I know I said something to him...something not very complimentary." A slight titter ran around the room and Jen smiled briefly. "I know I was planning to do my job."

Carmen bounced to his feet yet again. "Objection!"

"On what grounds?" the tribunal chair asked. Wes was sure there was irritation in his voice now.

"Supposition."

There was no need for a shared glance. "Overruled. Please continue."

"Captain Scotts?" prompted van Zyl. "What happened next?"

"Biocon initiated the Alpha Project."

"Ah." van Zyl nodded. "The Alpha Project. We've heard a lot in the past week about the scientific and theoretical ins and outs of this project. Would you please describe what it was actually like?"

Carmen started to make a move. To Wes' amusement, the tribunal chair just balefully glared at the obnoxious lawyer and he subsided without a word.

"It was frightening. One second I was in full command of what I was doing, the next I wasn't. I was a complete prisoner in my own mind."

"Explain," said van Zyl, before Carmen could get in another call of hyperbole.

"Well -- I could see and hear what was going on," Jen replied, "but I couldn't do anything about what was going on...or what Biocon was ordering me to do."

"Did you try?" van Zyl asked.

"Wow -- that's a cold question," Katie murmured softly.

"Better him asking than Carmen," Wes replied. "And you can bet your ass Carmen would have done."

"True."

Jen, for her part, looked affronted. "Of course. I tried so hard I gave myself a migraine headache."

"Objection!"

"On what grounds?" the tribunal chair asked.

"Conjecture."

"Mr van Zyl -- a migraine attack is a rather nebulous and potentially feigned condition..."

"Ouch," muttered Katie.

Jen opened her mouth to protest. van Zyl smartly stepped up to the tribunal panel and set a datapad before them. "I submit TFM report 0192A -- this is the bio-data that was pulled from Captain Scotts' morpher in the aftermath of this incident. It clearly indicates that Captain Scotts did suffer from a very severe headache the night following this incident that, if not of migraine proportions, was certainly painful."

"That will suffice. Objection overruled."

"Thank you. Moving forward, at what point, Captain Scotts, did you realise that you were the celebrated Shendraville 'survivor'?"

Jen sighed thoughtfully. "I suppose I half thought it when I realised who Biocon was, but actually knew... Not until Major Collins told me."

van Zyl nodded. "No further questions at this time."

He took his seat again.

"Mr Carmen," began the tribunal chair. "You have the witness."

__

TO BE CONTINUED...


	5. Chapter 4: Into The Fire?

Disclaimer: Wes, Jen, Katie and Alex don't belong to me. They're borrowed from BVE without permission but no harm, no foul, no money made. Joshua Carmen, Pieter van Zyl, Alicia Roberts, Merle Askot and the tribunal panel DO belong to me. You're welcome to borrow but please ask me first.

Legal note: I'm not a lawyer or a law expert, so please forgive any glaring errors.

With very, very grateful thanks to Gamine who helped me enormously in the writing of this chapter, going above and beyond the call of beta duty. Also many, many thanks to Selma, both for this chapter and the last, for the brainstorming and plotting that helped me shape these two chapters after a three-week absence.

Please offer feedback -- it tells me how I'm doing.

~*~

Future Imperfect -- ...Into The Fire?

Wes watched as Carmen slowly stood up. It was an ominous movement. He could see Jen swallow, hard. This was, he realised, going to be bad.

"Captain Scotts," Carmen began. "You were placed under Jack Scotts' guardianship at the age of six. Could you clarify why that was?"

"I was told that my parents were killed at Shendraville. He was my only surviving family."

"I see." Carmen looked thoughtful. "Do you remember that day?"

"I was six when it happened. I don't remember a great deal from that time, and I'm not sure I trust what I do remember."

"You don't trust what you do remember? Why is that?"

Wes could see Jen shifting nervously in the witness box. She looked painfully nervous now. "I know that part of the Alpha Project involved messing with my memories."

"Explain," said Carmen.

van Zyl bounced to his feet. "Objection!"

"On what grounds?" enquired the tribunal chair.

"Relevancy," van Zyl replied.

Wes watched as the tribunal panel members exchanged looks just as they had done over Carmen's first objection.

"Limitedly sustained," said the tribunal chair. "The subject of what Captain Scotts does or does not remember and what may have been done to her in memory adaptation is germane to this trial but Mr Carmen is drifting into irrelevant territory with his current line of questioning. Please rephrase, Mr Carmen."

Carmen looked like a child whose toy had just been taken from him. In spite of the situation, Wes found himself smiling.

There was a moment's pause, then Carmen said, "Captain Scotts how do you know that **you** have had your memories 'messed with'?"

"I..." Jen hesitated. "I've been told that's what was done."

"There is, after all, no medical evidence for the memory adaptation process. No scars, no physical 'damage'. So I say again, how do you know you've had your memories altered?"

"I..." Jen hesitated again. "It was a part of the Alpha Project."

"I refer the court to the testimony of Dr K'Vork, expert witness on memory sciences. He said: The Alpha Project does not require any form of memory adaptation to work, in fact, memory adaptation could be seriously deleterious to the functioning of the project." Carmen looked up, staring straight at Jen. "I put it to you, Captain Scotts, that there was no memory adaptation. Your memories are just fine and that, far from being surprised by Biocon, you were in league with him."

"Objection!" exclaimed van Zyl, bouncing to his feet again.

"On what grounds?" the tribunal chair asked.

"Captain Scotts is not on trial here."

"Sustained," said the tribunal chair without needing to look at his colleagues. "Mr Carmen, please moderate your line of questioning."

There was a lengthy silence as Carmen started to pace. Oddly, given the rebuke, Wes judged the lawyer's expression to be smug rather than sulky. _That's not good._

"Captain Scotts," Carmen finally said, "you are engaged to Captain Wesley Collins, correct?"

"Objection!" van Zyl was back on his feet.

"On what grounds?" asked the tribunal chair.

"Relevancy," came the inevitable answer. 

Wes couldn't help but wonder why Carmen was trying such a strange and obviously irrelevant question. There had to be a reason.

"If I may beg for a little indulgence from the tribunal panel," said Carmen, "I do have a relevant point to make."

Wes could feel the ice in the tribunal chair's glare from where he was sitting. "You have precisely one further question in this line and it had better be wholly relevant or I will have this line of questioning struck from the record. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," said Carmen nodding.

"Captain Scotts, please answer Mr Carmen's question," directed the tribunal chair.

"Yes I am," Jen answered, looking not unreasonably confused.

Carmen nodded. "The cornerstone of proof that you did not originate in this time period is a school yearbook in which there is a picture of one Chrissy Lithgow who does bear a considerable likeness to you. A picture that has undergone image analysis to bear out that comment." He paused. "Could it be that, like the similarity between your current fiancé, Captain Collins, and your previous beau, Major Alex Collins, you and Chrissy are not one and the same person, but two people who share genetics?"

There was a deafening and stunned silence in the court as the words of Carmen's question died away. Jen looked utterly shell-shocked by the accusation. Wes felt the bottom of his stomach drop. Rocky had verified to him -- and by definition, Alex and Jen -- that Chrissy Lithgow didn't exist, but that was inadmissible evidence because they couldn't get Rocky into this court to testify.

__

"Why not?" Wes asked.

Alex sighed. "Because it would be a temporal violation having Rocky here."

"But I'm here," Wes objected. "What harm would it do?"

"Yes -- but only after Temporal had checked and double checked the effects of pulling you out of the timeline. You and Jen, for that matter. Rocky would just be too much of an additional risk."

"What do you mean?"

"What happens if something happens to Rocky whilst he's here?" Alex answered. "What happens if he gets struck by a hovercar and we can't return him to his time period? That risk is just too great."

Finally into the silence, van Zyl said, "Objection!" Wes could hear the desperation in that call.

"On what grounds?" asked the tribunal chair.

There was a long hesitation, then van Zyl said, "My apologies, tribunal; I would like to withdraw the objection."

There was a loud, stunned gasp at that.

"What the heck?!" exclaimed Katie.

The tribunal chair looked suitably surprised. "That is your right, Mr van Zyl. Objection retracted. Captain Scotts, please answer Mr Carmen's question."

Jen looked noticeably pale as she whispered, "I guess it could be."

Carmen smiled smugly. "No further questions at this time."

As he sat down, the tribunal chair looked in van Zyl's direction. "Mr van Zyl do you have any further questions?"

"I would like to call a recess -- I have something that I wish to put to the tribunal panel and my colleague, Mr Carmen."

Wes watched as the tribunal chair's eyebrows vanished into his hairline. "Request granted." He glanced at the chronometer. "Court is now in lunch recess. We will reconvene at fourteen hundred. Captain Scotts you are released from the witness box until that time."

Almost the instant the tribunal panel and the two lawyers had departed from the courtroom, the room was abuzz with chatter.

Wes and Katie just looked at each other in stunned silence.

"What's going on?"

Wes jumped. Looking round, he saw Alex who, he realised, had been oddly absent all morning.

"They've gone into recess," Wes replied.

"I got that bit -- why?"

Between them, Wes and Katie filled him in. To their general surprise, however, Alex actually smiled.

"He's going to do it!"

"Do what?" Wes wondered, completely puzzled.

But Alex shook his head. "I can't tell you." He sat down. "Partly because I don't know for sure how he's actually going to do it."

"Alex, this is about Jen -- I have a right to know!" Wes objected.

Alex shook his head again. "I can't tell you Wes -- until Pieter van Zyl pulls his ace out, I can't say a word. Just... Trust me."

But that didn't make Wes feel any less worried.

~*~

At fourteen hundred hours on the dot, the court reconvened. Wes noted that there was not a solitary seat spare in the public gallery now -- and it had been fairly full prior to the recess.

"Guess everyone wants to see what van Zyl's going to pull out of his hat," Katie mused.

"I think people know this is going to be **the** pivotal session of the case," Alex observed.

"Here's hoping it works -- whatever it is," Wes murmured as the tribunal panel entered the court, followed by both lawyers. Carmen, Wes noted, looked vaguely annoyed. van Zyl, by contrast, looked confident. That in itself set a murmur of surprise rippling around the room. 

A moment later and Jen was led back into the witness box. To Wes' eyes, she looked worn down and nervous. The hour's break had obviously weighed heavily on her and he wished -- not for the first time -- that he had been able to speak to her during the lunch recess but the day's witnesses were closely guarded and contact with 'the public' was prevented. _Besides,_ he mused, _I don't think there's anything I could have said in an hour that would have made her feel better._ He grimaced. _Please let whatever it is van Zyl's planning work._

"This court will now come to order," ordered the tribunal chair. "Mr van Zyl, if you please?"

"Captain Scotts," van Zyl began, "prior to our recess, Mr Carmen raised a valid query regarding yourself and whether or not you and Chrissy Lithgow are the same person. I am correct in saying that you do not have any memories of Chrissy or her life?"

Jen nodded, looking completely puzzled. "Yes."

"Tribunal, with Captain Scotts' permission I would like to stage a demonstration in court."

"Please state the nature of that demonstration," replied the tribunal chair.

van Zyl started to pace. "The demonstration is of memory recovery. I would like to demonstrate to the tribunal panel -- and to the court in general -- that Captain Scotts truly was pulled from another time, to do this I require to call Doctor Alicia Roberts of Time Force Medical."

The tribunal chair stood. "Captain Scotts, do you give your permission for this demonstration?"

There was a pause, then Jen answered, "I do." Wes could hear the fear and determination warring in those simple syllables.

"Mr Carmen," continued the tribunal chair, "do you have any objections to this demonstration?"

"No, tribunal."

In any other situation, Carmen's markedly subdued response would have been amusing. As it was, Wes' attention was rooted to Jen.

The tribunal chair moved to look back at van Zyl, who had stopped pacing now. "Mr van Zyl, how much time do you require to set up this demonstration?"

With a quick glance at the court chronometer, van Zyl answered, "I can have things ready by fourteen fifteen."

Wes glanced at the chronometer and realised that meant five minutes. "Has he got this woman on stand by outside the court or something?"

Alex chuckled. "Knowing Alicia, very probably. More likely," he added, "they actually prearranged all the details while they were in recess, so that proceedings wouldn't be delayed."

Almost as if to prove Alex right, in walked the obviously summoned Doctor Roberts carrying a yellow hardcase and being pursued by a couple of techies, who were carrying a chair between them.

"The floor is yours, Doctor Roberts," said the tribunal chair, sitting down once more.

"Thank you, tribunal." The two techies set the chair down and stepped back. Roberts turned to Jen, who was watching from the witness box. "Captain Scotts, if you could please come here and take a seat?" Roberts gestured at the chair.

Wes watched as Jen did as she was bidden while Roberts set the hardcase on the floor. Every line of Jen's body told him she was petrified but her expression was calm, which, he realised, would be better than he would manage, roles reversed.

"What I will do," Roberts explained as she removed a hypospray from the hardcase, "is administer a small dose of Ventol. This is a relaxant. It puts the patient, in this case Captain Scotts, at complete ease and makes them more receptive to the second stage of this process." She straightened and looked at Jen. "Ready, Captain Scotts?"

Jen nodded. "Ready." There were nerves and fear in the word but all were out weighed by the determination. The former made Wes wish he could do this for her; the latter made him feel oddly proud.

Roberts applied a hypospray to the side of Jen's neck and injected the Ventol.

While that took affect, Roberts again crouched over the hardcase, replacing the hypospray and taking out something that, to Wes' untrained eyes, looked like the 'cortical stimulator' often seen on Star Trek. It was a small, grey, inch-diameter disk.

"What happens next," Roberts continued to explain, "is that I use this device," and she held up the disk, "to breakdown any traces of Mimozin and Remhinderazine within the patient's brain -- Mimozin and Remhinderazine being the primary drugs required in a successful memory manipulation. The device emits a pulse at supra sonic levels that causes the particles of Mimozin and Remhinderazine to disintegrate. The device is programmed to first run a detection scan. Should there be no particles of either drug present in the patient's brain then it will bleep twice and abort, otherwise it will start the process, bleeping once at the start and once when it is complete. It is not a painful processes, although it is not an entirely pleasant one. It is a process that will take roughly ten minutes."

So saying, Roberts stood up again and Wes watched as she applied the disk to Jen's left temple and set it working. He glanced at Carmen and could almost hear the man praying for an instant double beep.

The court was absolutely silent as a long, slow minute ticked by.

Then the device bleeped.

Once.

Wes felt himself relax into his seat. In spite of knowing what he did, having medical science confirm it was a relief. Watching Carmen, he saw the lawyer similarly relax into his seat -- but his was a deflation of a man who knew he was about to lose. Wes nudged Alex and Katie and nodded in Carmen's direction.

"Now that," Alex murmured sotto voce, "is a sight I would gladly have paid to see. Joshua Carmen completely beaten."

Unfortunately that knowledge didn't make the remainder of the ten minutes fly by because Wes had to sit helpless while Jen suffered through the procedure. The expression on her face, which, at times, verged on a grimace, made Roberts' statement about the lack of pain dubious to his mind.

When the end bleep finally came, Wes breathed a sigh of relief. It was over.

"Now we see if this has worked," Alex murmured.

Wes froze as it dawned on him that this might have been for nothing. "Is that likely?" he hissed.

"Only ten percent chance," Alex answered. "But..."

Wes nodded as Roberts removed the disk from Jen's temple.

"Captain Scotts, how do you feel?" Roberts asked.

"Like sh...err..." Jen caught herself in time. "Groggy," she modified.

A titter ran around the courtroom -- even the tribunal panel members smiled at the slip.

"OK." Roberts offered Jen a hand out of the chair. To Wes' eyes, Jen looked more than groggy. She looked terrible. "I'm going to help you back to the witness box -- then, with the tribunal panel's permission I will depart. My role is now complete."

"Thank you, Doctor Roberts, you are dismissed."

There was a brief bustle as the two techies carried out the chair while Doctor Roberts withdrew to the public gallery, making a direct beeline for Wes and the others.

"Move up, Alex," she whispered. "I want to see Carmen get what's coming to him!"

"The court will come back to order. Mr van Zyl, you have the witness," said the tribunal chair.

van Zyl nodded, standing up. "Captain Scotts, when I asked you at fourteen hundred, whether or not you recalled anything of Chrissy Lithgow you answered no. It is now fourteen thirty, you have undergone memory recovery, do you recall anything about Chrissy Lithgow?"

There was a long silence while Jen thought the question over.

Wes held his breath. He could sense Katie, Alex and Roberts doing much the same. _Please let this have worked._

"Yes I do." Jen sounded tired but triumphant.

"Could you tell me Chrissy's place and date of birth please?"

"She was born on 3rd November 1979 in Angel Grove, California."

van Zyl nodded. "It is a given that you didn't remember anything about your abduction prior to the memory recovery. Do you now?"

"Yes I do," Jen answered without hesitation.

"What do you remember?"

"Objection!" came the almost desperate call from Carmen.

"On what grounds?" asked the tribunal chair testily.

"Hearsay and fabrication," Carmen answered.

"Objection overruled," retorted the tribunal chair. "Need I remind you that in this court, fabrication is not an admissible objection? As for the hearsay charge, newly reclaimed memories come into the same category as old memories. Please continue, Mr van Zyl."

"I like this chair," observed Roberts. "He's not putting up with any crap from Carmen."

"You mean they usually do?" Wes murmured, surprised.

"How do you think he got his reputation?" Alex asked.

"Good point."

"Captain Scotts?" van Zyl prompted.

"I was playing in Angel Grove Park with a group of other children. I ran off on my own after our ball and something started to grab at me. I think I screamed -- it hurt -- and then I wasn't in Angel Grove park any more I was...somewhere else. I didn't recognise it -- and still don't," she added. "It's not somewhere I've been since then." van Zyl nodded. "There was a man right in front of me and a woman just to my left."

"Did you recognise either of them at the time?" van Zyl asked.

"No."

"What about applying the memories of Jen Scotts to Chrissy's memories?"

Jen nodded. "I'm not sure about the woman. The man is Jack Scotts. I think," she added, glancing at Merle Askot, who had been standing in the dock all day, "the woman is Merle Askot twenty years younger."

van Zyl nodded. "No further questions."

"Mr Carmen, do you have any further questions?" asked the tribunal chair.

Wes couldn't help but smile at the set of Carmen's shoulders. The lawyer was beaten -- and knew it. "No further questions," he bit out.

"The witness is released. Thank you Captain Scotts."

As Jen turned for the exit, Wes got up.

"Tell her well done from us," ordered Katie softly.

Wes smiled. "I will do."

__

TO BE CONTINUED...


	6. Chapter 5: Verdict Rendered

Alex, Katie, (Rob) Logan, Lucas, Trip, Nadira, Wes, Jen and Eric (who doesn't show up but gets mentioned once or twice) don't belong to me; they're all borrowed from BVE without permission but no harm, no foul, no money made.

Tonk and Tonk's place have been borrowed from David Schmoller/Full Moon Films without permission but no harm, no foul, no money made.

Everything else, from the Galvas to Deregovian Brandy (!!) does belong to me. You're welcome to borrow but please ask me first.

With exceptionally grateful thanks to Gamine for beta'ing, pulling out the nits and reminding me that I really SHOULD remember to use adverbs, they don't bite... Also with thanks to Chris for graciously allowing me to bounce sections off him.

Please offer feedback, it tells me how I'm doing.

~*~

Future Imperfect -- Verdict Rendered

Katie looked around at where she found herself standing and debated whether to shudder or shake her head. She settled for a combination of the two.

What on earth am I doing in this dive?

Looking around again, she took in the details of her surroundings. It was a bar. At least, she reflected, that was what it claimed to be -- she begged to differ. It was a grungy, grimy hole. From the way the glasses ranked up on a shelf behind the counter barely glinted in the poor lighting, Katie guessed that cleanliness was not high on the list of requirements in this place. The bottles, on a shelf above the glasses, were all unlabeled and even more visibly grubby.

This was the sort of place you went to get very, very seriously drunk.

And where the hangover cure probably consisted of a blaster to put yourself out of your misery afterwards.

Katie shook her head again. This was a frontier, off-worlder bar located in the heart of Forgotten District. This was the last place on earth a Time Force officer went willingly and yet, as her eyes fell on her quarry, this was exactly where one Time Force officer had gone. And given he was drinking alone, he must have done it willingly.

With a third shake of her head -- coupled to a haughty, mercury-freezing glare in the direction of a greasy looking Derego who was clearly on the look out for a bed-partner -- she headed across the crowded, noisy, noisome room towards his table.

"Go 'way," he slurred without looking up. "I paid for dis," he added, gesturing vaguely at the dirty bottle on the table in front of him.

"Not gonna happen," Katie retorted, sitting down. "Alex, what's going on?"

Blearily, he peered at her and blinked, a little stunned. "Din' think'd be you," he muttered.

Katie snorted. "Well tough, it is me. You going to tell me what this is all about or do I just hit you over the head and drag you home?"

"This?" Alex answered, gesturing vaguely. "This is obvious. I'm getting drunk." The words were spoken with the almost perfect diction only the extremely drunk ever manage. Each syllable was carefully enunciated and combined with the extreme look of concentration on Alex's face, Katie would have laughed but for the situation they were in.

Instead, she rolled her eyes. "Why?"

Alex grabbed at the bottle and missed. "Because." He made another grab for the bottle and this time successfully latched onto it. He took a long swallow of whatever it was and grimaced. "Because it all ends."

Katie's eyebrows lifted. "What ends, Alex?"

"It. Life. Love. Everything. Tomorrow."

She frowned. "Do you mean the trial?" she asked.

Alex snorted and started to laugh, something that rapidly descended into a hysterical cackle that attracted attention. Katie tried to shush him, but he wouldn't. "The trial, she says!" he exclaimed.

"Alex!" Katie hissed as several Deregos and a couple of rough-looking Triforians turned to look in their direction.

"What?" he snapped, suddenly angry. He launched unsteadily to his feet. "I will say what I like!"

"Alex sit down and shut up," she snapped. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"Whadda **you** care?!" he slurred, swaying on his feet. "No-one cares."

"That's not true and you know it. Now sit down!" Katie ordered.

Alex ignored her. "Name one person who'da give a shi' if I died t'ni," he mumbled, the anger passing into depression at light speed.

"Jen," Katie answered firmly without hesitating.

And suddenly Alex seemed to collapse inwardly, crumpling back into his seat like a puppet whose strings had just been cut. "She wouldn't care," he whispered. 

The look of heartbreak and desolation on his face was so strong that Katie had to bite her lip not to burst into tears. She didn't think she'd ever seen him look so sad or upset, and suddenly she had an inkling of what this might be about. "You're wrong, Alex; she would care a great deal."

Alex just stared at her blearily and reached for his bottle again. "No she wouldn't. Why would she? She has Wes. What would she need me for?"

"Alex," Katie began patiently, "you're her friend. If you do something stupid tonight..."

"She'll get over it." He swallowed more of the bottle's contents, apparently not caring that most of it missed his mouth and poured down his shirtfront. "'Sides. Better I die toni' than..." He shrugged carelessly.

"Than?" Katie prompted. But Alex just shook his head. "OK - what happens tomorrow?" she pursued.

"I promizi'd tell them." 

Katie watched as he regarded the bottle for a second, shook it and presumably decided there was nothing left. 

"Hey!" he yelled, suddenly angry again. "Who stole my drink?"

"I think you've had quite enough," Katie interjected.

He glared daggers at her -- a look that would have been more impressive had he truly been able to focus on her. "It...snot up to you! Waiter!" he yelled.

"Alex!" Katie hissed, but to no avail.

Alex staggered to his feet. "I will have more drink!" he yelled, belligerently staggering up to the counter, apparently not caring who he walked into or whose drinks he spilled.

"Alex you're gonna get us both killed," Katie mumbled, wishing she'd taken Rob Logan up on the offer of an escort. She got to her feet in time to see Alex blunder into the biggest occupant in the bar.

To Katie's eyes he was the largest, most evil looking Galvas she had ever seen. He was easily twice Alex's height and probably three times as broad with long, powerful arms. She knew that an enraged Galvas could literally rip a human being limb from limb in a matter of seconds and not only had Alex just walked straight into this behemoth, he had caused the other being to spill his drink and...

"Get out of my way you freak!" Alex yelled, jabbing a fist into the broad expanse of back before him.

Suddenly the bar was silent.

"What," rumbled the Galvas, turning round to face Alex, "did you call me?" 

Katie tried to work out if the tone of voice the Galvas used was angry or incredulous. Judging by the expression on his face, she decided it was probably a combination of the two.

"I called you a freak," Alex snapped enunciating each word carefully. In the stunned silence every syllable echoed. "Are you deaf as well?"

A gasp went round the room. Katie could hear muttering from somewhere behind her and guessed the Deregos in the bar had started a betting pool on the likely outcome. She wanted to look away but she couldn't seem to drag her attention from the scene.

"And you, pesky little man," the Galvas rumbled, "have less sense than a grohlfly." Then the Galvas smiled, showing teeth. "But it's your lucky night. I'm in a good mood." A muted groan ran round the bar. "Get out of my sight now and you live."

"Annn whaddya gonna do if I don't?" 

The attempted tough talk, however, was rather ruined by the gentle sway to Alex's balance. The effect was lethally comical. Katie covered her eyes. He really did have a death wish. But when she heard no sounds of tearing flesh or popping bones, she looked up to see the Galvas smiling again.

"Woman!" the Galvas called. "Take your friend home. I like him -- he amuses me."

It took Katie several seconds before she realised he was talking to her. Once she did, she found herself moving forwards almost without her own volition. If the Galvas was going to allow Alex to continue to breathe after all that, she wasn't about to refuse that offer. Particularly as it looked as though Alex was prepared to.

She grabbed Alex by the scruff of his neck, effectively preventing any response he might have made, smiled at the Galvas -- who actually laughed in response -- and started to drag Alex away.

"Hey!" he objected as she neared the exit and loosened her grip somewhat, enabling him to breathe properly once more.

"Alex, shut up!" Katie snapped.

She reached the door of the bar just as it opened to admit Lucas, Trip and Nadira. Alex took one look at them and moaned.

"Whassa guy gotta do to get drunk on hi-zown?" he mumbled. "This'sa con...con...con..."

"Shut up?" suggested Katie. Alex sullenly did so. "What are you guys doing here?" she added.

Lucas offered Katie a slight smile. "Logan figured you might need a hand."

"Robza nosy bastard!" Alex commented. "'Mall ri'."

Katie snorted. "Sure you are -- that's why you just tried to pick a fight with a Galvas twice your size." Nadira snorted with what sounded suspiciously like laughter. "Guys, if you wanna help, find something we can gag him with until we get him home or else that mouth of his is gonna get him -- and us -- killed."

With the air of a conjuror, Trip produced a hypospray from his jacket pocket. "This do?" he asked.

"Perfect."

Before Alex could protest, Trip pressed the hypospray against the other man's neck. A moment later the sedative took effect and he went limp in Katie's arms.

"You got him?" Lucas asked.

Katie smiled. "He's unconscious -- not a problem."

~*~

Alex groaned softly as he came round. His head pounded, his mouth felt like something had crawled in and died in it and his throat felt like he'd been swallowing sand.

"Damn it," he murmured.

"You have a hangover," diagnosed a voice.

"I know that," Alex retorted, not opening his eyes. "I was sorta hoping I was drunk enough to..." That was when he realised he knew the owner of the voice, and **that** made him open his eyes. The apparently bright light made him rapidly close them again but not before he'd identified the man standing over him. "Rob go away."

Logan snorted. "Alex, I haven't seen you **this** bad since Ven knocked you back when we were in the academy. I thought you quit drinking after that."

"Changed m'mind," Alex muttered.

"Do you have a death wish all of a sudden?" Logan continued. "Katie told me you were picking a fight with a Galvas!"

"So?"

"There are less painful ways of committing suicide, you know," Logan observed neutrally.

"Huh." Alex rolled over and found himself rolling off whatever it was he'd been lying on. He landed in an uncoordinated heap on the floor. "Ow," he mumbled half-heartedly.

Logan sighed. 

"Just go away," Alex muttered, squinting up at Logan.

"Nothing doing, Al," Logan retorted offering him a hand up. "You need help and you need it big time."

"Gee, comfort much?" He ignored the hand and stayed where he was -- getting up seemed like too much effort.

"Al -- what's up?" Logan persisted. "Given the very likely outcome of the trial in," he paused and looked at his watch, "say, four hours' time, I'd have thought you'd be happy. Instead here you are -- off the wagon and in a bigger mess than when you were nineteen and knocked back by the biggest prick-tease the Time Force Academy's ever known."

"What are you? My father?"

"Nope -- just a friend who's concerned by the idea of his friend feeling so depressed that he has to go boozing it up in a place like Tonk's."

"How did you know I'd gone there?"

Logan smiled briefly. "Tonk called me when you ordered your third bottle of rocket fuel."

"I was not drinking rocket fuel," Alex objected vehemently, then winced as his head pounded harder. "Was I?" he added lamely.

"Deregovian Brandy," said Logan, smiling wryly. "Sure sounds like rocket fuel to me."

Alex groaned. What on **earth** had possessed him to start drinking **that**? Not only was Deregovian Brandy potent it also left a very nasty aftertaste -- which explained why his mouth tasted like four-day-old sweat socks. Then something else that Logan had just said filtered through his mind.

"And why would you know a guy like Tonk?"

Logan grinned. "He's a good source of information -- plus he owes the fact that his bar's still standing at all to the fact that I'm a good shot with a chrono-blaster."

Alex decided he didn't want the rest of that explanation. "So Tonk called you and you sent Katie to haul my sorry ass out of the bar before I killed myself. Thank you. Your work is done. Get lost."

"Nu-uh." Logan sat down on the couch, which, Alex realised, was what he'd been lying on. "I'm not budging an inch until you tell me what the hell is going on."

Alex groaned. "Really, it's nothing..." Logan just snorted. "OK it's not nothing -- it's just none of your business."

"Tough shit, Al -- I've made it my business."

"It's a long story."

Logan snorted again. "What isn't with you?" He sighed. "Look. You have three hours and forty nine minutes to get whatever this is out of your system before you have to make an appearance in court to hear the verdict read."

"I don't have to be there."

"Alex, you were the officer in overall charge of her case. It'll look odd if you're not there. This is also Covert Ops' first case. In case you've forgotten, you're the head of that department -- now that really **would** look odd. Head of the department not interested in the outcome of his department's first case..." Logan shook his head.

Alex glared -- and wished Logan wasn't right about that. Unfortunately Logan **was** right. He would have to attend. "So?"

"So you need to get whatever this problem is out of your system before you reach court."

Alex shook his head -- then wished he hadn't as the room started to spin. Once that had ceased, he said, "So I'll do like I always do, Rob. Pretend there's nothing wrong."

"Not an option."

Alex managed to pull himself up into a slightly more co-ordinated heap and turned until he fully faced Logan. "What do you mean that's not an option?"

"Alex, you were suicidal last night. That doesn't just go away."

"I was not suicidal."

"Then how else would you describe calling a Galvas a freak?"

Alex blanched. "Good point." He sighed. "Not one of my finer moments."

Logan folded his arms. "So. What's bugging you?"

"You're really not going to let this go, are you?"

"Nope. And you have," Logan paused to consult his watch again, "three hours and twenty minutes."

Alex gave a long, pained groan. "Jen." He was more than a little startled to note that Logan's expression didn't so much as flicker. "You're not surprised," he stated.

Logan smiled faintly. "No, I'm not. I pretty much figured it had something to do with Jen."

"Am I **that** transparent?"

"Only when you're depressed."

"That is not a comfort."

Logan shrugged. "So what gives?"

Alex studied his hands, avoiding Logan's gaze. "There's some stuff I need to tell her...her and Wes...that I know they're not going to like. No don't," he added, looking back up at Logan, "ask me what that is -- it's purely between Wes, Jen and me."

Logan made an 'I'm harmless' gesture. "I wasn't going to ask."

"Huh."

"Are you sure you need to tell them this stuff, if it's so bad?"

Alex looked back at his hands. "I guess...if I was someone else, no I wouldn't need to. My trouble is I'm too honest." Logan snorted with what sounded like laughter.

"You? Honest? Al, you're a lying, manipulating, scheming son of a bitch."

"Why don't you say how you really feel," Alex muttered.

Logan did his best to stop laughing. "What I mean is, you tell people around you what you need them to know and no more. I think I'm possibly the only person you're ever one hundred percent straight with -- and I'm not sure about that."

Alex froze. "I don't do that...do I?" He looked up in time to see Logan nod.

"I'm guessing," said Logan a little more gently, "it stems from running a cloak-and-dagger operation like Covert Ops -- you didn't used to do it."

Alex slowly shook his head, gratified that this time the room didn't start spinning. "Rob, how did I get to here? I don't even know who I am any more."

Logan looked taken aback. "Alex?"

"I defined myself by something that I thought was going to happen...and now it's happened...only it didn't happen like I was expecting. And now it's gone and done...and I don't know who I am any more."

"You are who you've always been, Alex," Logan answered quietly. "You're a good man. You're a good officer. You're a good friend."

"Am I?"

"Besides, how many of us ever **really** know how we get to where we are?"

Alex shivered. This was more 'truth' than he had wanted to let out to anyone, least of all someone who knew him as well as Logan did, so he retreated, pulling up his defences. "Rob -- I think that's a little too 'Zen' for me right now. I have a hangover...hell it's probably the Deregovian Brandy still talking."

Logan wasn't buying, Alex could see it in his expression, and for a moment he thought Logan would force the issue. Then Logan smiled. "OK. But we are going to have this conversation, Alex." Logan consulted with his watch once more. "You have two and a half hours -- why don't I go make some coffee and you grab a shower?"

It was a way out. Alex offered Logan a tired smile. "Sounds good to me."

~*~

Two hours, one long, hot shower, a whole pot of strong black coffee and a handful of painkillers later and Alex felt more or less ready to face the day.

Chiefly less, he decided as he headed across the Quadrangle towards the Supreme Court. About the only bright spots that this day was likely to have would be Askot's verdict and the news he had just picked up from TF Temporal. The rest of it... He grimaced.

"Good morning?" 

Alex started and realised that both Wes and Jen had fallen into step beside him at some point. It had been Jen who'd spoken, although it was Wes who added, 

"How're you feeling?"

That was when he realised that they both knew what he'd done the previous evening. He glanced from one to the other and judged from their concerned expressions neither one was about to tear a strip off him. "I'll live," he settled for.

"Why did you do it?" Jen asked softly. "Are you that worried about this case?"

And for that one question alone, he regretted going to Tonk's place. "No -- not at all. Pieter's done his job." Alex smiled at Jen, willing her to believe him -- particularly given it was the absolute truth. 

Once Jen had completed her testimony it had been almost ridiculously simple to prove the rest of the charges. It had only been the temporal violation that had no real, solid proof behind it. Everything else had pages of documented proof that made Carmen's character witnesses look very, very silly -- to say nothing of what it did to Carmen himself. No, there was virtually no doubt that Askot would be jailed.

"Then why?" Jen asked.

"You know something about Eric?" Wes queried in a deceptively light tone of voice. One glance in Wes' direction told Alex just how worried the other man was that **this** might be the reason for his binge. Every line of Wes' body seemed tense and nervous.

And for the first time in what seemed like forever, Alex found himself grinning. "Actually I do." They had reached the courthouse steps. "I promise it's good news." Both Wes and Jen visibly relaxed at that. _Might as well bite the bullet,_ he mused. "Tell you what, when this proceeding's done and dusted, if you two come over to my office I can give you the details..." He hesitated a moment. "And I can keep my end of the bargain."

And before either could ask him what he meant, Alex headed into the building.

~*~

Wes looked at Jen. "Bargain?" he echoed as Alex rapidly departed out of earshot. "What bargain?"

"He couldn't mean he's actually going to tell us what he was up to, could he?" Jen replied, incredulous.

"In the matter of The People vs. Merle Askot, the court is now in session," came the announcement over the court's PA system.

"C'mon," said Wes. "I guess we'll find out what Alex meant once this is over with. Ready?"

Jen smiled, still a little nervous over the outcome. "Ready."

Arm in arm, they entered the courthouse.

~*~

The court reporter looked around the court. Every single seat in the public gallery was taken and there were even some people standing in the aisles. He shook his head. The last time he'd seen the court this full, it had been Ransik in the dock -- and he had been infamous. Somehow, somewhere along the line, this had developed into a major court case. And it wasn't just the spectre of the Shendraville massacre that had provoked that status.

Of course, he reflected, there was the natural interest since this was Time Force Covert Operations' first major bust. And there was Major Collins, just taking his seat. He looked relaxed but distant. Obviously a lot on his mind. 

Then there was the fascination the public of the thirtieth century had with anyone who had openly time travelled -- and there were two examples sitting right next to Major Collins. Captain Scotts and Captain Collins -- the reporter bet **that** occasionally got confusing, and not just for the name. He shook his head -- Major Collins and Captain Collins were only immediately distinguishable from one another by fact that the Major had dark hair while the Captain was fair-haired. Of course, if you looked at them long enough you could also see that the Captain was several years younger, but you had to look for that. 

_And let's not forget Captain Scotts' testimony in this case,_ he mused, returning his attention to the details of the trial. That had been the best day's courtroom drama he'd seen in nearly thirty years of court reporting.

His eyes next fell on the prosecuting attorney, Pieter van Zyl. Newly made DA, this was his first case -- and he'd done a brilliant job. Next to him, and looking far less happy, was Joshua Carmen. The court reporter couldn't suppress a smile -- Carmen had few friends in the legal world and no-one was overly sorry to see him come out second best in a case. _I suppose it's too much to hope he'll vanish without trace now?_

Finally, the court reporter's gaze fell on the defendant, Merle Askot. _Icy bitch,_ he observed. She had worn the same haughty expression throughout the whole trial -- as if the whole proceedings were beneath her. _Bet there'll be no-one shedding any tears over you, either._

At that moment the tribunal panel entered the court and called things to order.

"Doctor Merle Askot, you stand accused of one million counts of second degree murder, one million counts of aiding and abetting first degree murder, one count of temporal violation, and one count of mental rape. On the charge of mental rape, we find you guilty. On the charge of temporal violation," there was a pause and before the tribunal chair concluded, "we find you guilty. On the charges of aiding and abetting first-degree murder, we find you guilty. On the charges of second degree murder we find you guilty."

The court reporter switched his attention back to Askot. Her haughty expression didn't so much as waver. He shook his head. _Icy, inhuman bitch,_ he decided. 

Looking in the direction of Major Collins, Captain Scotts and Captain Collins he saw unbridled relief -- even in Major Collins' expression. Captain Scotts and Captain Collins hugged each other, which didn't surprise him. Then both captains enveloped Major Collins in a hug -- which **did** surprise him, and not just him from the completely stunned expression on the Major's face.

Pieter van Zyl was a little more restrained, as befitted the DA but he too looked delighted. Carmen looked like he'd swallowed molten lead. _My heart bleeds._

From the public galleries came applause and some cheering. _This really **is** Ransik all over again,_ he decided.

"This court will return to order," called the tribunal chair, swiftly bringing the jubilation to a close. "It is our duty," he continued, "to pass sentence. Owing to the severity of these charges and the very obvious lack of remorse you have shown we have no choice but to sentence you to life in cryogenic prison without chance for parole, sentence to begin from this day forth." The tribunal chair nodded once. "These proceedings are at a close."

_TO BE CONTINUED..._


	7. Chapter 6: In The End

Disclaimer: Alex, Wes, Jen and Eric (who gets talked about again) don't belong to be. They're borrowed from BVE without permission but no harm, no foul, no money made. Deregovian Brandy -- and its properties -- along with everything else in this chapter, does belong to me. You're welcome to borrow but please ask me first.

Muchos gracias to Angel and Chris who allowed me to work bits and pieces of this chapter off them -- special thanks be to Chris for spotting my 'deliberate mistake'. Huge, huge thanks also go to Gamine for once more stepping unto the breach.

Please offer feedback -- it tells me how I'm doing.

~*~

Future Imperfect -- In The End

Alex gave a quiet sigh as he slid into his seat. This, he decided, was not going to be pleasant and by the time he was done, there was a better than even chance that neither Wes nor especially Jen would want to talk to him ever again.

The sight of Wes and Jen entering the office stalled his train of thought. Doing his best to swallow back the depression that was threatening again, Alex offered them a smile. "Please, have a seat."

"You look rough," Wes observed as he sat down. "I can't believe you guys have a concussion cure but no hangover cure."

Alex sighed. "There is a cure," he admitted. "I just... It's a long story and not very germane at the moment." He watched as Wes and Jen exchanged looks. "Yes, that does mean it will become relevant," he continued. "Can I give you the good news first?"

It almost looked as if Jen was going to argue that point, then she said, "About Eric?"

Alex nodded. "Temporal have finally managed to confirm the time line has stabilised, which is good. What is better is that destiny force is now inactive."

"Which, in English, means?" said Wes pointedly.

"Which means that the pre-Biocon timeline has been restored. Which means that when you return to Silverhills, Eric will be there safe and sound and, probably, no worse for wear."

"Only probably?" Jen queried.

Alex offered a wry smile. "Our friend Dr Hawking is insisting that we have to abide by 'all rules and regulations in this matter', despite the fact that the information would be going no further than you two."

"Huh?" said Wes, confused. "Does that come with a translation?"

Alex groaned. This was not boding well for the rest of what he had to say, if he couldn't successfully paraphrase the Director of TF Temporal. "I'm sorry -- a Deregovian Brandy binge will do this to your thought process."

"Deregovian Brandy?!" Jen squeaked. "Are you nuts?"

Alex winced as his head started to throb again.

"And again with the help files enabled?" Wes suggested.

"Sorry Wes," Alex apologised.

"Deregovian Brandy's like moonshine or home-made vodka," Jen explained. Wes winced. "It's also the drink of choice for most alcoholics in this century." Alex felt her turn a dissecting gaze on him although he didn't look to check.

Instead, he added, "Because it gets you drunk and keeps you drunk." It was a neutral answer, neither confirming nor denying the tacit accusation in Jen's words. _Time enough to answer it later._ "As for Hawking," he continued, pulling the conversation back to Eric, "he's insisting that every temporal regulation be adhered to, particularly the 'no looking up specific individuals if it has no bearing on a case' rule."

"But he's our friend!" Wes objected.

Alex spread his hands wide. "There y'go. I didn't say it made sense. Particularly given that you guys are going back to that time period at the end of the week. Unfortunately Hawking is not going to change his mind."

"What an ass," Wes muttered.

"Never a truer word spoken."

For a few minutes, there was silence. Alex watched as the relief of knowing Eric was all right worked its way through both Wes and Jen, leaving them both relaxed for possibly the first time since their arrival in this century. _I could end the meeting here, _he mused, _and they'd both leave here happy...but I've promised them the truth...and I know I go through with this._ He grimaced.

"Alex?"

He blinked and refocused his attention on Jen and Wes. "Sorry." He swallowed. "Do you mind if we do the rest of this behind a privacy lock?"

Jen looked startled. "Uh, no...I guess not."

Wes shrugged. "What she said."

Alex managed a faint smile. "Thank you." He activated the privacy lock and once it was confirmed he continued, "It's just... The rest of what I have to tell you is both personal and private. The last thing I want...or need...is for it to join the already burgeoning gossip files about me."

"If it's that private," said Jen, "why are you telling us?"

Alex leaned forward until he was propping his head up on his hands. Not looking at either Wes or Jen, he said quietly, "Because it involves you both...and you deserve to know." _C'mon Al -- you can do this. Just do like you always do. Package up your own feelings and push them away. They need to know this and you need to be straight with them._ "Just...this is hard to explain so if you have questions..." he looked up slowly. "Or you want to punch my lights out...can you wait until I've finished?"

Wes and Jen exchanged looks. "OK," said Jen, speaking for both of them.

Alex nodded. "My full name is Alexander Collins and no, that isn't a coincidence. My father named me after your father," and he nodded at Wes. "I'm your descendant -- I think it's something like thirty-six greats grandson." That was the part they knew, or suspected. He turned his attention to Jen – this was the part that was going to hurt. He swallowed and added softly, "Both of you."

He hated the expressions that crossed Jen's face. Shock, horror, fear, anger. It was anger that she settled on and for a full second Alex thought she wouldn't adhere to the 'not punching him' promise. Instead, however, she settled for glaring at him.

Alex looked down, avoiding her gaze -- it was only going to get worse. "I guess the next question would be how long have I known that...and the answer is, I've known since I was eighteen."

"You bastard." Jen's voice was deceptively soft. Alex knew without needing to look up that her expression was full of loathing for him.

"Why?" asked Wes. 

His tone of voice did surprise Alex enough that he risked looking up...and saw Wes' expression confirmed what he'd heard. For whatever reason, Wes wasn't condemning him. Yet. It offered him a spark of hope.

__

You can do this. You have to do this. "Piece of family tradition," Alex explained. Wes' eyebrows skyrocketed at that. "Passed down, father to son, has been a book, sealed in a DNA encoded box. It was given to me on my eighteenth birthday and as luck would have it, I was the only person who could open it."

"I encoded...will encode the box?" Wes queried.

Alex nodded. "I'm guessing your thinking was you didn't want anyone but me to read the book."

"Which was?" asked Jen coldly.

"One of Wes' journals." _It's just words, they won't cost you anything._ "In it, you wrote about a lot of the events in the last year or so. None of the details, very few of the names...just enough to tell me that something was coming in my life. I guess you were trying to prepare me...or something."

"Sounds like something I'd do," Wes admitted.

"The one thing that you made clear, though," Alex continued, almost as if Wes had said nothing, "was that I was going to die...and die young."

He looked down so that he didn't see their reactions, but he could picture them all too clearly. He heard Jen gasp. He heard Wes curse softly. He knew that both would look shocked. But with that out of the way, the next part came easier.

"It's not easy, learning on your eighteenth birthday, that you're not going to make thirty. I started drinking, hoping the nightmares would go away. Not that anyone around me really noticed, but by the time I was nineteen, I was a wreck." He gave a huff of bleak laughter. "When you can drink a bottle of Deregovian Brandy like it was water you have a serious problem.

"About the only people who noticed there was anything wrong were Rob Logan and my then-girlfriend, Ven Desouza. She dumped me; he gave me the lecture from hell and threatened me with one a day until I did something about myself." He sighed. "He was fed up of having to cover for me -- amongst other things. And he had a point. It was a struggle, but I managed to dry myself out, managed to avoid flunking the academy course...managed, I suppose, to start living my life properly. And, amazingly, the nightmares went away."

Alex paused to collect his thoughts. Neither Wes nor Jen said a word. He suspected both were still more than slightly stunned by what he'd had to say so far.

"I had just made Squad Leader when the chance to join the ranger program came up. To this day, I don't know why I took it, but I did. It was yearlong assessment -- me, Merck Taylor...a few other people -- and at the end of it I was chosen. I couldn't have been prouder..." Alex studied the top of his desk. "I sort of hoped you'd have been proud of me too -- particularly after the sort of mess I'd almost made of myself. And then I went and bust my ribs."

For the first time since he had started his explanations, he risked looking up at Wes and Jen's expressions. Jen's was unreadable. Wes looked both faintly embarrassed and faintly amused. Alex wasn't sure what to make of the latter emotion.

"Pride goeth before a fall," he continued, "and boy did it. I was off active duty for three months and re-assigned to the academy to help self defence classes...which is how and where I met Jen."

"What did you do?" Wes asked, interrupting for the first time.

__

Fair question, Alex admitted silently. "Short version," he said, "I tripped over a wall. Literally. Rob Logan -- who was with me -- will probably take great delight in telling you all the details."

Wes smirked -- an expression that Alex wasn't entirely sure how to take, although he was sure it was better than the threat of violence that was still likely to come.

"If you knew who I was," said Jen coldly, "why did you do it?"

Alex gave a sigh. _You knew she was going to ask._ "Everything in Wes' journal made it clear that you graduated the academy..."

"And I was flunking in a major way," Jen put in. "So you decided you'd help me." Her words were emotionless and remote.

Alex flinched in spite of his determination not to care. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"'Didn't mean it' is one hell of a let off, Alex," Jen snapped, anger and enmity suddenly rolling off her in waves. "Half the criminals in cryo-sleep 'didn't mean it'."

Alex opened his mouth to rebut that claim, then closed it and simply nodded. She was right.

"I'm sure Alex can explain," said Wes pointedly.

"He'd better," Jen muttered.

"I..." Alex grimaced. "I didn't mean for a lot of this to happen. All I wanted to do was help you graduate. And...and then I got to know you. I'm human. I tried not to fall in love. I tried not to let you fall in love. Like just about everything else in my life, I fucked that up. We both fell…and fell hard." He looked down again, unable to face the silent accusations in their expressions. "I couldn't even die on time."

"What?" 

Alex continued to study his desk top, not even looking up to identify the speaker. "I should have died at the cyro-prison."

"So now you have a death wish." Wes' accusation was flat and to the point.

He shrugged, still regarding the desk. "I didn't want this. Any of this. That day at the cryo-prison was nearly a year ago since then..." He sighed. "I'm not looking for sympathy. I don't deserve it, I'm just trying to explain...and I'm fucking that up too." He put his head in his hands. "I'm sorry."

For several minutes, silence reigned in the office. Alex tried desperately to pull his thoughts into order but the headache was getting worse. Finally, in a quiet voice, he continued,

"You were never supposed to know I'd survived. I was just going to run Covert Ops. Send the Time Shadow as necessary...and it seemed to be working...and then Steelix was released. I don't know what happened...I guess it doesn't matter. That was when I knew I had to get involved."

"You were pushing us together," Wes put in.

"You were the one who'd altered history!" Jen exclaimed. "It was never us -- it was always you..."

"I know," Alex whispered. "Believe me, I know."

"You son of a bitch!"

Alex didn't look up. Didn't need to. Didn't want to see Jen's expression. Didn't want to see her looking at him like the scum he was.

"Let's hear him out," Wes said, even his voice remote now.

Alex felt the last spark of hope extinguish at that. _You knew this would be how it ended. Just pack it up and push it aside. You need to get this done._ "There isn't a lot more to say," he admitted. "Jen's right. The future was shifting -- not because of anything you'd done but because of my own arrogance. Destiny Force was slowly purging the timeline of everything that wouldn't happen if you didn't get together. I had to do something -- the only thing I could think of to do was go to 2001 myself and try to force you together..." 

Alex forced himself to look up and meet their angry gazes. "I'm not looking for forgiveness...I'm not even really looking for understanding because I know what I've done is wrong. Like I said -- I guess I'm human. And I will completely understand if you never want to speak to me ever again."

"Oh no." Jen shook her head. "You don't get off that easy."

Alex blinked.

"Jen's right," said Wes coolly. "You seriously think we're just going to let you go after admitting all that? Ooh no. I am not prepared to validate your death wish."

"Me neither," Jen agreed. "I am so pissed off right now I want to push you through the window. But sorry, that would be letting you off. I went through hell for you, Alex. I grieved for you. I denied my own feelings and hurt both myself, and Wes – and very nearly my whole team – because of you. And you tell me that it was all some cosmic mistake and that you're sorry? No, you have to live with this, the same way I do."

Alex opened his mouth to say something.

Wes shook his head. "Uh-uh. You said you wanted me -- as your ancestor -- to be proud of you. Well live, damn it! Yes, what you did was wrong," Wes continued. "Yes, some of what you did was stupid. As you keep pointing out -- you're human. You're using that as a defence to us but you're not holding to it yourself. Believe it or not, Alex, humans make mistakes."

Alex opened his mouth again.

"And people make their own destiny," Wes added. "Some things might be set in stone. Maybe Eric did have to meet Zafar bel Abis again because maybe there was something to learn in it. But what would your death have served if you had died at the cryo-prison? What **point** would there have been to that?"

"But..."

"No buts," said Wes firmly. "If I know the way I think, whatever I wrote was...is intended to make sure you **avoid** dying a pointless death. Did that cross your mind?"

Alex just stared in silent non-comprehension.

"Now," Wes finished, "we're going to go. We have a lot to think about. So do you. Let me give you two last suggestions, Alex. First -- don't be stubborn. Take the hangover cure. Second..." He glanced at Jen, who nodded. "Talk to Katie."

Mechanically, Alex rescinded the privacy lock and watched as Wes and Jen walked out of the office.

That was the last outcome he'd imagined for this talk.

And what did Wes mean by that last part. Talk to Katie?

__

TO BE CONTINUED... 


	8. Epilogue: A Change Of Plans

Disclaimer: Wes, Jen, Alex, Katie, Lucas, Trip, Nadira, (Rob) Logan and the trio don't belong to me. They're all borrowed from BVE without permission, but no harm, no foul, no money made. Everything else belongs to me and while you're welcome to borrow, asking me first would be butane!

For my complete list of thanks, see the end credits.

Please offer feedback, it tells me how I've done.

~*~

Future Imperfect -- A Change Of Plans

Wes lay back on the couch, enjoying the press of Jen's body as she leaned against him, relaxing into his embrace. It was, he reflected, nice to finally be able to relax.

"OK?" he asked.

"Mm-hmm." Jen sighed and twisted slightly in his embrace until she could look up at him. "Looking forward to going home."

Wes smiled faintly. It was the first time he'd heard Jen refer to the twenty-first century as 'home'. "Me too." She settled back against his chest. "If nothing else, I want to know how Eric is."

"Me too. I mean, we know he's 'OK' -- but what does that mean?" Jen sighed again. "For all we know it could mean he's still alive but a mental vegetable."

Wes pulled a face. "I'm not sure that qualifies as 'OK' even in Alex's book."

"I don't know any more." Jen again looked up. "I thought I knew Alex once upon a time -- but now..." She shook her head.

"Does what he told us really bother you?" Wes asked.

"Bother me? Not really. I always knew there was more to him than met the eye." Jen grimaced and flipped over so that she was lying face to face with him. "It annoys me more than anything. I don't like being manipulated or played with."

"That's not what you said last night," Wes teased, leaning up and kissing her on the tip of her nose.

Jen giggled in spite of herself. "You know what I mean."

Wes' brief spurt of levity died. "I know what you mean."

"I feel...I don't know. Betrayed? Hell -- I don't know what I feel. Ask me fifteen years from now."

He leaned up again, this time capturing her mouth in a tender kiss. "OK," he murmured as the kiss ended.

"Does it bother you?" Jen asked.

Wes smiled faintly. "I've sort of known some of it since that whole business with Doomtron. I knew he had one of my journals and he told me we were related. And now I know what he meant when he said 'some-when' to me right before he came back here the first time I met him."

"Hm?"

"When he went back to this century -- after we'd defeated Dragontron and after he'd helped my dad. I asked him if he'd ever explain why he'd done what he'd done." Wes smiled. "He said he couldn't -- but that there was an explanation out there somewhere, or some-when."

"Now would be then, huh?" said Jen.

"Yeah. I guess so."

"Can you forgive him?" Jen asked curiously.

"Can? Already have," Wes admitted.

"Oh?" Jen was surprised.

"I think he's been an idiot and I think he's done some stuff that's **hurt**; me, you, people around us all... But is anything he's done **really** any sillier than Eric? Or me? Besides, I think the person he's really hurt in all this is him." Wes pressed a kiss to the top of Jen's head. "Anyway, grudge holding's Eric's forte, not mine."

Jen giggled. "I know what you mean."

"What about you? Can you forgive him?"

Jen's smile died. "I don't know," she replied softly. "I want to. But...he really hurt me, Wes. He was the first person I let in and trusted -- and he was never honest with me. Not in the entire time we were 'together'." She shivered. "I can't forget that."

"I know."

"I'm not even sure if I can work with him. I don't know if I can trust him."

"You can."

"How can you be so sure?" Jen asked, her eyes fixed to Wes' face, clearly searching him for any signs of him lying.

"I don't know," Wes admitted. "It's just a feeling I have." When Jen looked dubious, Wes added, "So far, I've had that sort of hunch about our first meeting, the night Steelix was released and the night Kim was attacked. I'm three for three. If you can't trust Alex, trust me."

Jen smiled faintly. "OK." She kissed him gently. "So what happens now?"

Wes smiled wryly. "Now, we go home and make sure dad doesn't go overboard on the wedding."

"Oooh, sounds like fun," said Jen with sarcasm, but she softened the words with another kiss, while her fingers started to wander to the buttons of his shirt.

"It's either that or put up with the entirety of the Silverhills society pages turning up. And believe me, you don't want that." Wes paused, squirming a little as knowing fingers brushed a ticklish spot. "Actually, on thinking about it, it might be good for the socialites to meet a real human being or two..."

Jen laughed.

"You think I'm kidding?" Wes queried. "Emmie and her coterie only knew one topic of conversation. Shopping." He shuddered.

Then shuddered again as Jen finished undoing the buttons and pressed her lips to a particularly sensitive spot on his chest and decided that the future could wait in favour of what Jen was doing.

~*~

There were three. Strange, and vile looking -- they were abortions of two natures, neither of which were inherently evil yet when combined, only evil could result. They moved through the wastelands. They knew they were being tracked. They didn't care.

"Where we are going," hissed one, "they will not matter!"

His cohorts laughed. 

"We will rule," hissed a second.

"They cannot stop us," hissed the third. 

They stopped at a nondescript point and stood side by side. Looking around, the first nodded.

"This is the place."

"But it is not now," contributed the second thoughtfully.

"We must wait," said the third. "For now."

~*~

Alex moved around his office, pacing.

Maybe Eric had the right idea. Maybe what he needed was some time off. Some time away from this job...this life. He had defined himself for so long by outside factors: by the contents of Wes' journal and by the job and by his relationship with Jen. Maybe it was time to work out who he was when all that was stripped away.

Wes and Jen would be going back to 2002 in the morning. He would see them off then... He smiled faintly. Maybe he should give Ven a call. Catch up with the third member of the triumvirate. She was...he frowned. She was up somewhere in Manitoba, he thought. Attached to the regional TFHQ up there as deputy to the CMO.

Yes, that was it.

Manitoba... He'd better call ahead, though. He faintly recalled that she'd got married...

Hm. Maybe that wasn't such a good idea.

"Alex?"

He started at the voice. Looking round, he saw, to his surprise, Katie standing his office doorway.

"Marissa let me in," she explained. "Are you planning on staying here **all **night?"

"Who'd miss me?" Alex answered bleakly. "Everyone's moved on, Katie. Everyone but me."

"Now that just does not sound like the Alex Collins I had a crush on when my best friend brought him to town to meet the folks back home," Katie drawled, laying on her otherwise latent accent with a trowel.

Alex smiled faintly. "You had a crush on me?"

"Alex, the whole damn town did," Katie snorted. "Hick town. Ain't nothing much goes on in Bayou country so when a sweet, fine guy like you comes along..." Katie laughed as Alex felt himself blush.

"You're teasing me," he complained. "And New Orleans is not a 'hick town'."

Katie grinned. "Only teasing you a little. I did have a crush."

Alex's eyebrows rose as he crossed his arms against his chest. "And you would be telling me this now because...?"

"Because," Katie answered, levity being replaced by seriousness at a stunning pace, "you need someone to talk to. Someone who'll understand and who won't judge... Someone who cares."

"I hear your voice but I hear Wes' words. Why is that?"

Katie's mouth curled up in a half smile. "Well it could be because he told me you weren't doing so great -- which he did, but that was a no brainer. I saw you two nights ago. Or it could just be great minds are a thinkin' alike."

Alex studied the woman standing before him. "Katherine Walker -- if I didn't know better, I'd say you were flirting with me."

Her half smile blossomed into a full-on grin. "And they say guys are always oblivious."

Alex shook his head. "I'm not looking for 'that'." Katie's eyebrows lifted as much to say 'oh?' "I just..."

"Want some time alone?" Katie asked, her grin fading back into a serious expression. "Alex, the last thing you need is time alone right now. Wes and Jen have each other to help them through the tough times. Eric has Kimberly -- or my name isn't Katherine Elizabeth Walker. Trip has Nadira. And if I didn't know better, I'd swear I caught Lucas making goggle eyes at Marissa while we were nailing Merle Askot." Alex smiled faintly at that thought. "But you -- who do you have?" Katie took a step closer. "Who do you have to make the nightmares go away?"

Alex's head dropped. He had no answer to her softly spoken query.

He felt her hand on his shoulder. "Alex, everyone deserves someone to share their burden, even if it's only for a short while."

Alex swallowed. "Katie...I know what you're offering and...not that I'm not grateful...but..."

"But you don't love me," she finished. Her fingers lightly touched his chin, gently lifting his head until he was looking at her. "I know."

"I can't take..."

"You're not taking, I'm giving."

And before he could protest, she pressed her lips against his. He froze for a second, stunned by both the act and the feeling of her mouth against his. It was the touch of her tongue gently coaxing his mouth to open that brought him back to his senses. This was wrong. This shouldn't happen. No matter how good it felt. He pulled away, breaking the kiss.

"Katie...are...I..." Alex found he was shaking.

"Alex, you need this," she replied softly. "Let me do this for you."

He studied her face, searching for any sign of hesitation and found none. She was sure. And she was right. He did need this.

"Alex?"

"Thank you," he whispered.

Katie smiled and drew him back to her.

~*~

They looked around the place where they had stopped. It was dark now.

"This is the place," repeated the first.

"And the time is now," confirmed the second.

"But it is also then," said the third. "We are wrong."

His two cohorts turned to stare at him.

"We must go to then," he explained. "The now is then."

"But if the now is then," said the first.

"How do we get there?" asked the second.

The third gave the closest approximation to a smile he could manage. "We must wait. But not long."

~*~

Jen slowly looked around the apartment, making one last check to insure they hadn't left anything behind in their slightly chaotic packing session. There were no two ways about it, she realised, this century really had ceased to be home. She was looking forward to going back to the twenty-first century. Looking forward to seeing Eric and finding out just how he really was. Hell, she was looking forward to butting heads with Wes' father on the subject of the wedding.

Anything rather than staying here.

She sighed.

She wanted to hate Alex for what he'd done to her... And she couldn't. She couldn't even remain angry with him for it. And oddly, that made her annoyed. Trust Alex to be difficult!

Jen shook her head.

It was going to take a lot of time before she really wrapped her mind around what he'd told her two days ago. And some of it -- particularly what he'd said about what he'd gone through while he'd been a cadet -- had just plain shocked her. She'd never dreamed the spaces between his words hid something that painful.

Almost against her will she found herself wondering how she would have coped had she learned what she knew about herself now when she'd been eighteen. She came to the realisation that she wouldn't have done it. _Not without Wes._

But that line of thought just led her, uncomfortably, back to Alex. Who did he have? Who had he ever had?

"It's not your fault," said Wes from the doorway.

"Huh?" Jen blinked. "What isn't?"

"That Alex is alone -- it's not your fault. It's not my fault. It's no-one's fault. Unless you count Alex himself -- and that's a little too much like kicking a wounded puppy."

Jen found herself smiling faintly. "I know. Set?"

Wes nodded. "Yep."

At that moment, there was a knock on the door. Slightly puzzled, Jen answered it, only to find Lucas, Trip, Nadira, and Marissa, all out of uniform.

  
"You didn't think you guys were going to be able to sneak off now, did you?" asked Lucas, grinning.

"Apparently not," said Wes, grinning back. "C'mon in."

The quartet trooped into the apartment.

"What time do you guys actually leave?" Marissa wondered.

Jen glanced at her watch. "Oh-nine-hundred," she answered.

"Good -- then we have time to celebrate first," said Lucas.

"No...Lucas -- you promised!" Trip howled, blushing right to the roots of his hair.

"Celebrate?" Wes echoed.

Jen's gaze went to Nadira, who was blushing almost as much as Trip was. She smiled at the younger woman. "Congratulations," she said. "Both of you," she added to Trip.

"Celebrate?" said Lucas hopefully. "I mean -- it's been a good couple of days, hasn't it? Askot's convicted, Trip and Nadira are engaged, you guys," and he prodded Wes in the stomach, "are engaged...which we didn't get to celebrate properly..."

"Sounds like a party to me," agreed Marissa.

~*~

First and second looked to third.

"Now is then, and then is now," he pronounced.

"We march?" asked second.

"We march," confirmed first. "Now. Then. For all times."

There was a bright flash, and then the trio were gone.

~*~

It was the angle the sunlight struck him at that told Alex something was wrong. Eyes snapping open, he confirmed what the ray of sunshine had suggested. He wasn't at his apartment, and it was far later than he planned on sleeping.

"Shit."

He sat bolt upright in the bed...and realised he was completely naked beneath the covers.

"Shit!"

"Was last night so terrible you're reduced to cursing?" asked a voice from the doorway.

Alex blinked and looked. Katie was standing in the doorway, dressed in a robe that did little to conceal what he was fast remembering to be luscious curves and wearing the sort of smile that reminded him of a cat that had caught the canary and was watching the canary's owners search for the missing bird.

He wondered if he was the canary or the owner.

"I'm sorry," he said as she walked into the room. "I'm just..."

"A little confused?" Katie suggested, producing a cup of coffee, which she proffered to him and he accepted. "That's understandable."

"It's late and..."

"Alex, hon, it is six am."

Only reactions long honed prevented him from slopping coffee all over the bedspread. "What? But...?"

"That," said Katie, nodding towards the window, "is the sun rising over the Bayou. I guess it's a little brighter than you're used to, huh?"

Alex took a long swallow of coffee. "You could say that."

And now that he was a little more awake, he remembered their joint decision to travel down to New Orleans rather than staying in Central City and he started to relax.

"So was last night so terrible?" Katie pressed.

Alex smiled and shook his head. "No, it wasn't. It was..." He hunted for the right word. "Special."

"Did it help?"

Alex thought about the question for a few moments and realised that the weight that had been sitting on his shoulders for as long as he could remember seemed to have dissipated. And he knew what he was going to do now.

"Yes," he answered. He was going to say more, but there was a bleeping from the comm. unit elsewhere in the apartment.

Katie grimaced. "Someone's timing stinks," she muttered. She pointed to another doorway off the bedroom. "The 'fresher's just through there," she directed. "Let me go deal with whoever this is...then we'll talk."

Yesterday, that idea would have scared him. Today, he welcomed it. "I'll hold you to that."

Katie smiled, nodded and went to take the comm. call. Alex watched her go. He didn't love her, that much was true, but if she was willing to give him a chance... He started to set the cup down and get out of bed when Katie returned, but gone was her bonhomie. Like a tonne of bricks, the weight was back.

"Get dressed," she said without preamble. "We have to get back to Central City."

Alex closed his eyes. "What's happened?"

Katie sighed, going to collect items of clothing from her closet. "I don't know -- Marissa wouldn't, or more likely couldn't, tell me." She paused and looked over her shoulder at him. "But we will talk," she promised.

For a long second, Alex was tempted to say: No -- can we talk now? Whatever it is Time Force wants can wait, I need to get my life sorted out first. 

That just wasn't him.

__

I don't even know how to put myself first any more, he realised in both surprise and mild horror. _Is there even a 'self' left to put first?_

"Alex?" Katie's soft query pulled him from the panicked rush of thoughts. He found she was sitting before him, already dressed. "We will talk," she said. "I promised you last night -- I'd be here when you need me to be. No strings, no time limits, no judgements."

Alex sighed. It wasn't what he needed...but it was the best he could have in the situation. "I'll hold you to that," he murmured.

~*~

Wes set his bag down in the time ship. He felt oddly nervous about his return to his native time. People would expect him to have a tan from spending the last 'three weeks' in the Mediterranean sun...which would be strangely missing. _Given I've spent a month, near as not, sitting in a court room..._ He sighed. He and Jen had already come up with a cover story -- that they had been in Northern Europe and it had rained -- but... It annoyed him to have to come up with something like that.

"Wes?"

Jen's voice floated through the time ship bay.

"In here," he replied.

A moment later and Jen appeared in the time ship. As he turned round he realised that, for the first time since their arrival, they were both fully out of uniform -- and he didn't think tennis shoes, jeans and a sloppy-joe sweatshirt had ever looked so good. He pulled her into an embrace and kissed her.

"What was that for?" Jen asked, as the kiss came to an end. "Not that I'm complaining!"

Wes grinned. "Just because I can -- and because you're gorgeous...and do I **need** a reason to want to kiss you?"

Jen giggled. "Good enough for me."

She started to lean up to kiss him when there was a polite cough from the time ship's entryway. Wes jumped.

"Whoever you are, your timing stinks," Jen muttered.

"I know," said Lucas ruefully. "But...um..."

Reluctantly, Wes released his hold on Jen and they both turned to look at Lucas. "What's up?"

Lucas sighed. "The shit has hit the fan. Big time."

Wes' eyebrows lifted. "Excuse me?"

"Departmental briefing in fifteen minutes," Lucas replied. "That's all I know."

"And we're supposed to be going home in twenty..." Wes groaned. 

"Maybe this won't be something we need to do anything with," said Jen brightly. Wes just looked at her. "Good point." She grimaced. "Where's the meeting?" she added.

"Alex's office," Lucas replied.

Wes felt Jen wince at that. Unobtrusively, he squeezed her hand. "And we have to attend?" he asked.

Lucas nodded. "Whatever this is, it's big."

~*~

Alex looked around his office. The last time it had been this full, he had been conducting a council of war on the subject of Biocon and Arachna. From that last meeting, Rob, Lucas, Marissa, Katie, Nadira and Trip were present. Also present were Hawking, as head of Temporal, and the Director of the Technical department, Dr Bennett. Rounding out the occupants of his office were Wes and Jen, both looking more than a little incongruous, given their twenty-first century clothing. Bennett and Hawking were barely restraining themselves from staring. 

And everyone was looking at him expectantly. Alex sighed inwardly. Best get the bad news out into the open...

"TFC have been tracking three criminals in the wastelands to the east of Moscow. As of nineteen thirty local time, said criminals vanished. Literally. The TFC team managed to get a temporal reading and, this is where it falls into TFCO territory, determined that the trio had gone through a naturally occurring time hole." Alex paused. "And that's the good news."

"If that's good," commented Rob dryly, "I know the bad news is going to be doozy."

Alex gave a grim smile. "As of yet, we don't know where the criminals have landed up -- Director Hawking has a team on that as we speak. We do have a way to track them, however -- but that can only be, at best, a two-man team." He paused again. "And as of this moment, we know only the barest details about this trio of criminals -- and frankly, what we do know..." Alex looked around the room. "It worries me greatly. Dr Bennett?"

The neat, little woman nodded. "TFTech were brought into this case in the very early days of the TFC operation. You see, the trio are mutants, but they're not 'standard' -- if you can have a standard -- mutants. They're genetic mutations on some other non-humanoid life form, which," she peered around the room, "renders them basically impervious to all existing weapons. And that includes the assorted weaponry of the ranger program."

"So basically," said Wes, "what you're saying is these guys are super-mutants; we can't find them and can't hurt them when we do find them."

Alex nodded. "That's about the size of it."

"Oh boy."

"We do, however, have a plan of action," Alex continued. "Nadira -- you still have contacts in Forgotten District," she nodded, "I need you to speak to them, and very probably your father too. See if anyone knows anything." She nodded again. "Trip, Marissa, you along with Rob and whoever it is from the Moscow office need to go over every scrap of data we have on these criminals. There has to be something in there that will give us a clue as to what or who they are." They nodded. "Lucas, I have a brief errand for you to run, then you're liasing with Dr Bennett's team. I'll be liasing with Director Hawking's team." Alex paused and looked at Wes and Jen. "Wes, Jen -- you'll be our recon. team, and you'll be setting off in half an hour."

"So much for going home," Wes murmured.

Alex winced. "I'm sorry. I think we've all got things we'd rather be doing."

"I know."

"Dr Bennett has equipment for you," Alex concluded. "Lucas will be contacting Eric for you to let him know you won't be back on schedule."

"That would be that errand," Lucas commented.

Alex nodded. "Certainly would. One last thing. Because this going to mean that essentially there's no-one in this office for large parts of the day, I've asked Katie to sign on as Civ-Ad for TFCO. For anyone who needs to report in, she will be your point of contact."

Katie nodded and said nothing.

"Any questions?" Silence. "All right. Let's get this operation underway."

__

TO BE CONTINUED IN ALMOST UNREAL...

~*~

The End Credits

There are a few people who deserve special mention for the help they've given me during the writing of this story, so in no particular order...

Selma -- for the plotting help and the careful prodding and for allowing me to work assorted pieces of temporal theory off her at 5am.

Chris -- for allowing me to work temporal theory with him and for letting me bounce sections of this story off him and for being a tireless Alex fan.

Angel -- for also being a tireless Alex fan and reminding me of the various things that I needed to include.

Gamine -- for being an incredible human being, a wonderful friend and a brilliant beta reader, not to mention being able to rescue my train of thought when it was derailed by three weeks of back problems.

The guys and girls who make up my update list -- you all know who you are -- in particular and you, the reader in general, for being patient with me and for offering me feedback.

Thank you.

Three months, 25,000 words -- book four of the Identiverse is now complete.


End file.
